London Times
by RavenMaid
Summary: When Harm and Mac travel to England, they think they're in for just a little PR, but they soon discover that not everything is as it seems. Soon, they're in over their heads, in more ways than one.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own JAG, or any of its characters. This is just for fun.  
  
1420 Local JAG HQ Falls Church, VA  
  
It had started out like a normal December Wednesday at JAG HQ and stayed that way all day; while it snowed outside people were bustling around the bullpen, some carrying stacks of heavy books, multiple folders, while some, like Harriet Simms, carried several colorfully wrapped gifts. Everyone was trying to get all their work done before the Christmas Holiday started on the following Monday. Mac sat in her office reading over her witness list for the Hernandez case, when Tiner knocked on the door.  
  
"What is it Tiner?" Mac asked when she saw the young man standing there.  
  
"Staff call at 1430, ma'am," Tiner replied brightly.  
  
"Thank you, Tiner," Mac nodded.  
  
"Aye, aye, ma'am," Tiner did an about face and walked off to notify Commander Turner, Lieutenant Simms, and Lieutenant Roberts.  
  
Mac sat back from the witness list for a moment to reflect on all that had happened in the last few months. The biggest news was that Bud and Harriet were expecting another child. They had only just made the announcement and already the entire office was pulling for them. Much to everyone's relief, Singer had been sent out to the Seahawk when Bud turned the position down to be with Harriet, AJ and the coming baby. Commander Turner was pushing as hard as he had ever pushed in the courtroom and was gaining a considerable reputation. Mac thought that the last few months had been perfect, well, nearly perfect. Harm was still Harm and their relationship seemed to as stuck as it ever had been.  
  
A knock at her door shook Mac from her reverie. "Ma'am, are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine, Harriet," Mac said smiling, as she shook off the last of her thoughts about Harm, "Just drifted off for a moment there. How are you feeling? You look."  
  
"Ma'am, if you say I'm glowing, I'll." Harriet smiled, "I don't know if I can handle another person saying it."  
  
"Okay, I won't," Mac smiled, and just then Harm popped his head in.  
  
"Mac, sorry I'm late," Harm started, then he noticed Harriet, "Hello, Harriet. You're positively glowing this morning."  
  
Harriet's eyes blazed at him, "Thank you, sir. Ma'am." Harriet and Mac shared a meaningful glance before Harriet returned to her desk and the wrapping that awaited her there.  
  
"What was that about?" Harm asked puzzled.  
  
"Nothing," Mac laughed, "So, did you take a late lunch today?"  
  
Harm tilted his head and gave her an innocent look that said 'What me?'  
  
"Oh, come on, Harm," Mac said, "Last week it was traffic; Monday it was construction, so what was it today?"  
  
Harm smiled. "Okay, you got me," then his voice became more serious, "I got a message from Webb about Sergei and I lost track of time."  
  
"How is he?" Mac asked sincerely.  
  
Harm shook his head, "It sounds like he's okay, for now."  
  
Mac knew Harm wished he could so more to help his brother. "You miss him, don't you?" she asked softly.  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
There was a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Mac remembered, "Oh, we have staff call at 1430, and it 1428 now, so we better go."  
  
"One of these days you'll have to tell me how you do that," Harm said.  
  
"I did tell you," Mac replied.  
  
"That doesn't count," Harm said, sounding like a little boy, "I don't understand Farsi."  
  
"Maybe you should learn it," Mac joked as they reached the conference room.  
  
They weren't the first people there. Commander Turner was already seated on one side of the table. Bud and Harriet weren't but a few steps behind Mac and Harm, and soon they were all seated at the conference table awaiting Admiral Chegwidden. Harm and Sturgis talked amiably across the table about a game of basketball they had played the night before. Mac and Harriet sat beside each other quietly discussing names for the new baby, while Bud smiled at them from his seat next to Sturgis.  
  
When Admiral Chegwidden finally entered the room at 1435, all their chitchat ended and they all made to rise.  
  
"Keep your seats," the Admiral said. After had taken his own he said, "I just got off the phone with the SECNAV," he said, his voice carried a hint of mild disdain, "It seems two of our officers got out of hand while they were on liberty in London and they were involved in a bar fight with a group of British sailors."  
  
Harm, along with the rest of the officers smiled, but their smiles were short-lived.  
  
"One of whom is the Prince's third cousin's son or something like that," said the Admiral frowning at the officers.  
  
"Our sailors fought with a British Royal?" Harriet said disbelieving.  
  
"They didn't know it at the time, but yes," the Admiral replied. He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He sighed, and then continued, "The case was handled by our JAG in London, but the British press has gotten wind of it, and the US Ambassador says it's ugly. So, Commander Rabb, you and Colonel Mackenzie are going to the UK to smooth things over."  
  
"Smooth things over, sir?" Harm asked  
  
"The Ambassador asked me to go, but I can't spare the time," the Admiral told him, "You and Colonel Mackenzie will be acting in a diplomatic roles. This is high profile in the UK, we want to make a good impression."  
  
"Yes, sir." Mac and Harm both sighed. Neither of them liked dealing with the press.  
  
"Now, in order for you both to leave you'll have to hand off some of your cases. Commander Turner I'd like you to take the Hernandez prosecution from Commander Rabb."  
  
"Aye, sir," Sturgis replied smartly.  
  
"And Lieutenant Roberts, I'd like you to handle the defense for Colonel Mackenzie."  
  
"Aye, sir," was Bud's determined reply.  
  
Harriet being the only one he hadn't addressed, the Admiral looked at her and said, "Lieutenant Simms, I expect you to help Lt. Roberts and Cmdr. Turned in any way you can."  
  
"Aye, sir," Harriet replied cheerfully.  
  
"I'm sorry this all came down so close to Christmas, but let's try to get it wrapped up. "And Rabb, Mackenzie," the Admiral added as he stood and they all rose from their seats, "Please try to keep this simple. Dismissed."  
  
A chorus of "Aye, aye, sir," came from the group of officers before they followed the Admiral out of the office.  
  
"London, ma'am," Harriet said wistfully, "Oh, you're so lucky. You'll get to see all kinds of wonderful things. Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace."  
  
"If we get the time," Mac sighed.  
  
"Even if we do, we'll be hounded by the press," Harm added.  
  
"You won't let that stop you, sir," Harriet assured them, "And you'll have to remember everything you do because I want to know all about it."  
  
Two hours later, Mac had passed off the defense to Bud and Harm had brought Sturgis up to speed on the prosecution as well as promised him a rematch of basketball when he got back from London. She and Harm were scheduled to fly out of Dulles International Airport at 0700 hours the next morning, so they had decided pack their respective things then Harm was going to pick Mac up at her apartment in Georgetown.  
  
"I'll see you in themorning," Harm said, as he and Mac walked to their cars.  
  
"You'd better not be late again," Mac laughed.  
  
Harm flashed his trademark grin, and said, "I'm never late."  
  
  
  
0530 Local Mac's Apartment Georgetown, VA  
  
When there was no answer to his knocks, Harm used his key to get into Mac's apartment. Upon entering, he saw a few books scattered across the living room, clothes thrown over the sofa and a few dirty dishes by the sink. It was unusual for Mac to leave her apartment in such a state of disarray. He could hear Mac pulling out drawers down the hall. Harm added his cover to the pile of clothes on the sofa before he walked down the hall to find Mac. He paused at her door and watched her hold up a white shirt to herself in front of a mirror. She screwed up her face and tossed the shirt onto another pile that had formed on her bad.  
  
"I didn't think that one was that bad," Harm said smiling.  
  
Mac wheeled around, surprise and mock reproach on her face, "What are you doing sneaking up on me?"  
  
"You didn't answer the door, so I let myself in," Harm said as he walked over to the clothes covered bed. He picked up the shirt Mac had just discarded. Mac had gone back to rummaging in her closet. "Mac, we're probably not going to be meeting the Queen."  
  
"The Admiral said this is a diplomatic assignment," Mac reminded him, "I just want to be prepared."  
  
"Mac, it's already 0539, if you take much longer to prepare, we'll miss our flight," Harm laughed.  
  
"I know what time it is," Mac snapped back cheerfully, "Besides, I'm mostly packed: every day stuff, plain uniform, dress uniform."  
  
"Then what are you looking for?"  
  
Mac gave an exasperated sigh, and said, "Something appropriate for diplomacy."  
  
Harm smiled. "We've got to go or we'll miss our flight." Harm looked at her; she was still fidgeting with the shirts in her closet. "Besides, you look great in anything."  
  
Mac stopped going through her shirts. She looked around at him. He was looking at her, his eyes honest and he was grinning. She smiled. "Thanks, and you're right; we've got to go." She zipped her bag shut, then looked around the room. She looked perplexed but then made up her mind, "I'll deal with this when I get back," she said, indicating the clothes that had been strewn across the room.  
  
"Alright, let's get out of here," Harm said, inwardly laughing at the mess the usually spotless Marine was leaving. He made a mental note to ask Harriet if she wouldn't mind stopping by to straighten it up, as a favor to him, and a Christmas present to Mac. 


	2. Chap 2

1900 Local, 0100 Eastern Heathrow Airport London, England  
  
"That was a long flight," Harm said, stretching his long legs as they walked off the plane.  
  
"Six hours and 43 minutes," Mac said, "But I don't know why you're complaining. You slept the whole time."  
  
"Well, at least I didn't snore," Harm smiled at her. They stepped out of the connecting tunnel and into the terminal. Mac looked around for a moment before seeing a young Marine waiting. He seemed to be looking around for them. She nudged Harm in the ribs.  
  
"Think he might be looking for us?" she joked.  
  
Harm smiled and nodded and they walked over to him.  
  
"Corporal, I'm Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie and this it Commander Harmon Rabb."  
  
The Corporal snapped to attention. "Welcome to the U.K., ma'am."  
  
"Thank you, corporal."  
  
After Harm and Mac had collected their bags and passed through customs, the corporal drove them to the US Embassy. The Embassy was situated on the edge of a small park. The building itself was made of white stone, and on the roof, facing the park, was a golden statue of an eagle with its wings spread to their full span.  
  
"Looks more like a shrine to pilots," Mac joked as she poked Harm who smiled tiredly; the statue did look like a three dimensional replica of his wings.  
  
The Corporal informed them that the red and white brick building that they had just passed was actually the Navy's Headquarters in the UK.  
  
"Why aren't we going there?" Harm asked.  
  
"It's closed for the day, sir," the Corporal answered. "I've been instructed to bring you straight to the embassy. Miss O'Connor, your diplomatic aid will be meeting us."  
  
"A diplomatic aid?" Mac asked.  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
Mac looked to Harm who raised his eyebrows. It was only a few more minutes before the car was parked outside the gates of the embassy and they were headed inside. At the door and again at the desk inside, the presented their ID's and the corporal led them to a small room with comfortable chairs where they were to wait for Miss O'Connor.  
  
When the corporal had left them alone, Harm said to Mac, "I'm beat, and my legs are killing me."  
  
"You spent how many years in an F-14 and you find a commercial flight cramped?"  
  
"There's a big difference between an F-14 and 747," Harm said with a knowing smile.  
  
"Ah," Mac nodded and smiled. Then, added, "But nothing compares to the racks on submarines."  
  
They both smiled, and then they heard someone clear her throat in the doorway and they turned to see a young woman who was just a few inches shorter than Mac. Her light auburn hair was braided into an oval around the back of her head, and a few wispy curls that had escaped framed her face. She wore a tailored black suit, and cradled in her left arm was an expensive leather trapper-keeper. She looked at them through piercing green eyes.  
  
"Who are you?" Harm asked.  
  
"My name is Lynnea O'Connor, and I'm from the Embassy's Attaché Core, sir," the young woman replied, "I apologize for my tardiness; I hope you haven't been waiting long. You must be Commander Rabb and Lt. Colonel Mackenzie."  
  
"Mac," said Mac as she shook Lynn's hand.  
  
"Harm," Harm said taking her hand next.  
  
Lynn smiled upon releasing his hand. "If you'll follow me, we'll get you to the hotel; you must be exhausted."  
  
Mac smiled at the thought of a hotel rather than Visiting Officer's Quarters on the base. But there wasn't a base in London.  
  
"Where are we staying?" Harm asked, obviously thinking the same thing Mac was.  
  
"At the Commons Hotel, it's a short drive from here," Lynn replied, as she picked up Mac's bag.  
  
"Oh, you don't have to carry that," Mac tried to get the bag back.  
  
"It's my job to make things as easy as possible for you," Lynn replied, "Besides, it really isn't that heavy."  
  
"Well, neither of you ladies ought to be carrying that," Harm said, swiping the bag from Lynn, who smiled at him.  
  
"Thank you, Commander."  
  
Once they were all seated inside the car, and she had given the driver the address, Lynn looked at the two of them. The JAG Corps had certainly sent two of its finest looking officers, and from what she had heard, its best. They must have known each other for a long time, she thought, judging by the comfortable way in which they sat together. They also looked very tired.  
  
"How was the flight?" Lynn asked.  
  
"It was normal, long," Harm said. Mac smiled slightly.  
  
"It's worse flying from the US to the UK, but the ride back should be more enjoyable," Lynn agreed.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss O'Connor," Mac began.  
  
"Please, call me 'Lynn.'"  
  
"Lynn, we know that we're here to act in diplomatic roles, but we still don't know what that means exactly. Could you enlighten us?"  
  
Lynn nodded, and then began to explain, "Because the case has drawn so much attention, Admiral Grant wants to show the British public that the US Navy has taken the issue seriously, which is why he asked Ambassador Phillips to request Admiral Chegwidden's presence. You are here to represent him."  
  
"That much we know" Harm said, "What exactly happened between our sailors and the British Royal?"  
  
"A royal?" Lynn asked as if she had no idea, then her eyes widened, "Oh, the report must not have been ready for you before you left. The fight took place three days ago in a pub. The British sailor, who is the prince's cousin, a Duke, provoked the an argument with two of our sailors, and the situation escalated to a fight."  
  
"A duke isn't the same as a royal?" Mac asked.  
  
"A duke isn't royal, he is a member of the nobility," Lynn clarified, "Some dukes are future princes or kings, but this Duke would not have become a royal. However, the British have always taken keen interest in their nobles, so, naturally, the case has drawn a lot of press. Ah, here we are."  
  
They had reached the hotel. It was an elegant white stone building. Its courtyard was lined with dark green trimmed hedges and beautiful flowerbeds. Lynn led them up a white stone staircase, through the antique doors and into the lobby. The lobby was furnished with fancy chairs and sofas, fresh flowers, and was occupied by several guests and a few distinguished looking men in matching gray uniforms.  
  
"'Ello, Miss O'Connor," one of them called out, his voice heavy with his Irish accent. He had gracefully taken Harm and Mac's bags and was walking beside Lynn.  
  
"Hello, Henry, how's your wife?" she asked.  
  
"She comes 'ome today," he replied, his upper lip not moving, "Thank ye fer askin'."  
  
"I'm glad she's doing better," Lynn smiled and led Mac and Harm to the desk. Mac was surprised that Lynn would know the footman so well. But then again, she herself had always made it a point to know all the men and women serving under her. At the desk, Lynn asked the receptionist if the rooms 215 and 217 were ready. She replied that they were and handed Lynn the keys.  
  
Lynn turned to face the two officers, "Here are your keys," she said, "Henry can show you where they are. Why don't you go freshen up and change, then we can continue our conversation in the restaurant."  
  
Harm and Mac gave her questioning looks. Lynn acknowledged them and then said, "I'm sure you must be hungry for some decent food, and you should change so not to draw attention. I'll meet you back here in ten minutes, alright?"  
  
Both Harm and Mac nodded and turned to follow Henry the footman to the elevator as Lynn took out her cell phone.  
  
In nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds, the two officers had changed into civilian clothes and were headed down to the lobby. Mac was wearing an off white cotton sweater over dark jeans; Harm had chosen dark jeans, as well, but had opted for a black sweater. When they entered the lobby, Lynn was seated in a comfortable looking armchair with her binder open in her lap, a single sheet of paper on the floor, and her cell phone to her ear.  
  
"I understand, sir," they overheard her say, "Yes, sir." Pause. "Of course, sir." Another pause. "Goodbye, sir." She ended the call and placed the cell phone back in his holder, which was clipped to the waist of her skirt. "Sorry, about that," she said as she gathered the papers in her lap. Harm bent to pick up the paper that had slipped to the floor, and as he handed it back he thought that he read something familiar in the upper corner, but he dismissed it after a moment. "Thank you, sir. Shall we?"  
  
Lynn led them around a corner and to the restaurant, where she waved at the host, who immediately sat them at a table near the window. A waiter came almost immediately and offered them tea and cake. Mac and Harm both accepted and Lynn politely declined.  
  
After the waiter had left, Lynn reopened her binder, and said, "While you were changing, I ran copies of the report," she said, and handed them each a packet.  
  
Harm and Mac scanned the papers, and Lynn began to summarize the case.  
  
"Lt. Timothy Elliot was the Navy JAG who investigated the case; he found that the Duke instigated the fight and that our sailors fought in retaliation. I think," she paused to recheck the report, "Yes, all three sailors involved accepted letters of reprimand."  
  
"What were the charges?" asked Mac.  
  
"I believe the charges were Conduct Unbecoming," Lynn replied, "Although, I must admit that I don't know much about military law."  
  
"The fight took place three days ago, how was it handled to quickly?" Harm said, more to himself than to either of the women.  
  
"Admiral Grant and Ambassador Phillips both wanted the case resolved quickly and quietly," Lynn said, "But, despite their best efforts, it leaked, as did the results of Lt. Elliot's investigation."  
  
"So, we're here to support Lt. Elliot, and that's it?" Mac said disbelieving, "The Admiral could have sent a written statement and it would have been just as effective."  
  
"That's true," Lynn agreed, "But Admiral Grant thought that it would be a good idea to use the attention and turn it into positive publicity."  
  
Mac looked even more disgusted at the thought of being used as a poster girl; she'd hated her stint on Court TV. Harm, though being more familiar with publicity, still hated it. Both of them sat with their faces drawn, unconsciously, into frowns.  
  
"Do either of you have any experience with the press," Lynn asked when the waiter had left.  
  
"I shot a commercial for the Navy last year, and the year before that Mac prosecuted a case on Court TV," Harm answered.  
  
"Excellent. That will be very helpful. I'm hoping that you won't have to do much except look good."  
  
"What are we going to be doing?" Mac asked.  
  
"Aside from the press conference, you'll attend the premier of an opera tomorrow night, and then the following night, you'll attend the Annual Christmas Ball," Lynn said.  
  
Mac took a deep breath and mentally went over everything she had packed, knowing that she hadn't packed clothes for either of these events. "I didn't bring anything that would be appropriate to wear," she said.  
  
Harm, pretending to be surprised, looked at her and said, "You packed most of your closet and you don't have anything?"  
  
Mac shot him a glare, and then looked to Lynn. "Don't worry, ma'am," Lynn said at the look on Mac's face, "Tomorrow, after the press conference, I'll take you to get appropriate attire."  
  
"It's going to be very expensive," Mac mused.  
  
"No, it's covered in the Admiral's budget," she explained, then she switched tones, "I'll be attending the events with you and Admiral Grant. My job, as your diplomatic aid, is to help you with what you may need. Information, clothing, anything at all."  
  
Harm and Mac both nodded. They all finished what was left of their tea and stood. They walked out of the restaurant, Harm and Mac were surprised when Lynn handed the bill to the cashier but didn't pay. He just smiled and nodded.  
  
"I'm sure the two of you are exhausted, and would like to rest," Lynn said when they had reached the lobby, "I'll meet you tomorrow morning at Admiral Grant's office. There will be a driver standing by to take you there in the morning. If you need anything before then," she paused and pulled two name cards out of her binder, "Ring me. My number is on the card."  
  
"Thank you, Miss O'Connor," Harm said; he wasn't comfortable calling her 'Lynn' yet.  
  
"Yes, thank you," said Mac as she held the elevator open, "See you tomorrow."  
  
Lynn smiled and then she turned and walked out of the hotel. Harm and Mac looked at each other, sighed, and stepped into the elevator. 


	3. Chap 3

2130 London Commons Hotel London, England  
  
A few minutes later they were back in their rooms. Their windows faced across the river toward Parliament. After he had put away the rest of his clothes and changed into a pair of navy blue gym shorts and a gray sweatshirt, Harm knocked on the door that separated their rooms.  
  
"Hey, Mac," he called, "Let me in."  
  
"Hold on a minute," came her muffled reply, "I'm changing."  
  
Harm smiled, "I can help you with that." When Mac didn't reply Harm knew that she had just rolled her eyes. A few seconds later, she opened the door. She had changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that read 'USMC' across the chest. There was something about Mac that made anything she wore sexy, Harm thought.  
  
"Well, are you coming in or not?" Mac asked giving him a look that said, 'grow up.' And Harm gave her a wide smile. Harm stepped into her room. Mac hopped onto the bed and grabbed the remote. She lay on her stomach facing the television. And while she flipped through the channels, which were all static, Harm sat at the desk, dialed room service, and ordered up a salad for himself and a cheeseburger for Mac. She dropped the remote, and rolled into a sitting position so she could face Harm. He was looking down at his hands folded in his lap, but his eyes were focused on something beyond them.  
  
"Earth to Harm," Mac said playfully, "Come in, Harm."  
  
Harm looked up at her, "Oh, sorry, Mac. I think I spaced out there for a sec."  
  
"What were you thinking about?" Mac queried.  
  
He paused a moment before answering, "Mac, why did you go TAD?"  
  
Mac looked stunned. "Um," Mac began, "I think we talked about this once. I needed some time to figure things out, to get over everything."  
  
Harm nodded solemnly, "Even now, though, it seems like you. well, you don't seem like you want our friendship to go back to the way it was. It seems like you don't want to get too close."  
  
Mac took a deep breath before replying. It was true she hadn't wanted to get to close. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to be close to you again," she finally said, "I. we almost lost you."  
  
Harm looked straight into her eyes. "Mac, I am so sorry, for scaring you like that."  
  
"Then why did you go out there in the first place?" Mac asked angrily as she stood up, " You could have rescheduled."  
  
"It would have taken another six months for quals to come around again," Harm replied defensively, but he remained sitting, "Plus, like I said then, the date was set before you set the wedding date."  
  
Mac gasped in disbelief, "Harm, you only fly a few times a year, would it have made a huge difference?"  
  
Harm returned her gasp of disbelief with one of his own as he rose from the chair. "Yes, it would have made a huge difference. I needed to keep something."  
  
Mac, who had been pacing, stopped dead in her tracks. Her back was to Harm, but he could tell that she had just figured something out by the way her head straightened. But almost immediately, her head dropped again.  
  
"Mac, what?" Harm asked, "What were you just thinking?"  
  
Mac turned on her heel; she was just an arm's length away from Harm. She had a puzzled look on her face, "What did you mean by that? By 'keeping something.'"  
  
Harm took a deep breath and let it out. He hadn't meant to say that. "I was. I felt like." he was trying to cover his tracks by mumbling something incoherent.  
  
"Harm, what did you mean," Mac said.  
  
"Mac, I had to do my quals then," Harm said, "I just needed to have them done."  
  
"But why?" Mac persisted, "Why was it so important that you have them completed then? Was it the wedding?" Mac had added the last part hoping that the wedding was really the reason.  
  
Harm bent his head. "Yes, it was the wedding," he said softly, "I needed to hold onto flying because I was losing."  
  
"You thought you were losing our friendship," she said, her eyes filling with compassionate, but heart braking, understanding, and she reached out to pat Harm's arm. "Harm, you wouldn't have lost our friendship."  
  
Harm shook his head, "No, Mac," he said, "I couldn't lose flying then because I was already losing you."  
  
Mac was so surprised that she dropped her hand from Harm's arm. She hadn't dared to hope that Harm had done his quals right before the wedding because he was losing her.  
  
"Sarah, flying has always been the most important thing in my life," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, "Until you. You're my best friend, not just my partner. And I was losing you to Brumby. I couldn't stand losing the two most important things in my life at the same time."  
  
Mac smiled, but she looked like she was going to cry.  
  
"I tried to tell you that the night Renee's father died," Harm said, "But then you left right after that and you refused to talk to me, and since you've come back, you haven't wanted to talk about it."  
  
Mac nodded, "I was afraid that you didn't want to fix our friendship. Until the Jag-a-thon, I didn't know what your intentions were."  
  
Harm smiled. Then, he reached out to touch her arm the way she had touched his. "Well, I guess we were both so upset at almost losing each other that we decided we were better off alone."  
  
"Ah, 'what fools we mortals be'," Mac quoted, smiling back at Harm and patting him on the arm as well. They stood there, each with a hand on the other's arm, just looking at each other. Mac's stomach made a gurgling sound, and she and Harm both smiled broadly. Just then a knock sounded on the door, and they both smiled.  
  
"We'd better get some food in you, Marine," Harm said flashing his flyboy smile before turning to let the room service guy in.  
  
"Yeah," Mac replied, "I'll be having real food. I don't know how you survive on that rabbit food, stickboy."  
  
"Maybe there's a reason women have more body fat than men," Harm quipped, and then raised his hands to catch the bottle of water Mac had thrown at him from the mini-bar.  
  
"That definitely wasn't one of our high points," Mac smiled, remembering that night in the Appalachians.  
  
"Well, that was the best part of that weekend," Harm replied.  
  
Mac shook her head, "I guess you're right about that part. I could have killed you over that women in the combat comment, though."  
  
"Hey, it worked didn't it," Harm said, as he sat back down at the desk to eat his salad. He continued playfully, "You know, that was the first time we slept together."  
  
"I wouldn't call a cave and a bed of pine boughs sleeping together," Mac said.  
  
"What would you call it?" Harm asked feigning injury.  
  
They continued to make playful banter between bites of food. They teased each other about different cases they had handled. The machine gun incident, the dog Mac had defended, Harm's brig break, and Mac's 'spreading her wings.' They talked about Mac's Uncle Matt and their first mission, the first time they met Webb. The time they had shared quarters on the submarine. They talked about their times in Russia, the NATO Balls they'd attended, the time Harm broke Bud's jaw, the morning of Bud and Harriet's wedding when Mac had bailed Harm, Bud and the Admiral out of jail.  
  
It was close to midnight, local time, when Harm seemed to drift into thought again. Mac hesitated for a moment before prodding him in the arm.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"That's the second time you've drifted off tonight," Mac said, "What's up?"  
  
"I was thinking about Miss O'Connor."  
  
"Why?" Mac asked curiously.  
  
Harm looked thoughtful, as though he wasn't sure how to word his thoughts. "I don't have a good feeling about her. She's polite and professional, but something about her just doesn't sit right."  
  
"What 'doesn't sit right'?'" Mac persisted.  
  
"The way she looked at me when I handed that paper back to her. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."  
  
"Harm, she met us at the US Embassy," Mac said, "She must have been cleared through them, and she was carrying a report on the case. Plus, she's going to meet us tomorrow, so if you're still worried then, you can interrogate her." Mac smiled.  
  
Harm smiled, but he still couldn't shake that nagging feeling. Together they cleaned up the dishes from their dinner and Harm put them on the tray in the hallway. When he came back, he saw Mac turning down her bed.  
  
"Goodnight Mac," he yawned, "Thanks for dinner."  
  
"Thank you, too," Mac replied smiling, "Close the hatch will ya. I want to sleep without listening to you snore."  
  
Harm smiled back, "Goodnight, jarhead."  
  
"G'night, squid," 


	4. Chap 4

0630 London Time Commons Hotel London, England  
  
Despite their late night dinner and conversation, Mac awoke the next morning feeling energized, so she dressed for a run, and knocked on the door between her and Harm's room. She smiled when he answered right away.  
  
"Hang on, I'm tying my shoe," he said, but his reply was muffled by the door.  
  
"Hurry up. I'm ready," Mac called back.  
  
Harm opened the door and stood before Mac in his sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirt. "Marines are too damn pushy."  
  
"First out," Mac quipped as they exited her room.  
  
It was cold outside, with it being December. When they left the courtyard of the hotel, they saw a giant Farris wheel that was at least eight stories high, which they later learned was called the Eye of London. As they ran they saw Parliament across the river Thames and behind it the steeple of Westminster Abbey rose. They continued to run along the river, occasionally they would pass another runner and after their first two miles, they saw Tower Bridge.  
  
"Hey, it's London Bridge," Harm said.  
  
"Nope," Mac replied, "London Bridge is in Arizona."  
  
Harm looked around for a sign, but when he didn't see one, he ran to catch up with Mac. After another mile on the trail, they turned back to the hotel. Six miles was a dismally short run for them both, but it was now almost 0700. When they were just a block from the hotel, it began to pour. It was as if floodgates had burst open in the sky.  
  
"Ugh," Harm groaned, and he ran faster.  
  
Mac picked up the pace as well. "Damn English weather."  
  
"We should have known it would rain."  
  
They dashed into the hotel courtyard and into the lobby. The footman, who had seen them coming, held the door open for them. Mac was surprised when he addressed them.  
  
"Colonel Mackenzie, Commander Rabb," he said cordially, "Would you like some hot breakfast sent up to your rooms?"  
  
Harm looked bewildered. "Yes, please," he replied, "How do you know our names?"  
  
"Miss O'Connor informed me this morning," said the doorman, who Mac suspected wasn't a doorman but a trained valet, "I'll go see about that breakfast. Hot coffee and tea as well, I presume?"  
  
"Yes, thank you," Mac said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.  
  
"Your servant, sir, ma'am," the valet dipped his head and left.  
  
"We have a butler, Mac," Harm joked after the footman had disappeared through a door.  
  
"Harm, right now I don't care if his name is Alfred, I'm freezing," she said, her voice wavering as she shivered.  
  
Harm saw the goose bumps on her neck, and the way she had wrapped her arms around herself. He led her to the elevator, and when it finally opened, he laid his hand on the small of her back as they stepped into it. She really was shivering.  
  
"What happened to that extra body fat?" Harm asked.  
  
Mac gave him a dirty look. The elevator opened to the third floor and they walked quickly to their rooms. Mac opened the door to hers and walked straight toward the bathroom.  
  
"Harm, would you mind." she paused and turned to her partner who was just as soaked as she was.  
  
"Mind waiting for the breakfast," Harm finished for her, "Sure, go on."  
  
Mac smiled gratefully and closed the bathroom door. While she was stripping out of her soaked clothes and running a hot shower, Harm went over to his room and changed into a dry pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He'd shower after breakfast. About 15 minutes later, a young waiter pushing a trolley with two trays on it showed up outside the door. Harm let him in and thanked him, and, after he left, poured himself a cup of steaming coffee.  
  
"Aren't you going to eat?"  
  
Harm turned around to see Mac standing behind him in a bathrobe. Harm shifted his weight. "I can leave so you can get dressed," he said.  
  
"I though you could help me with that," Mac teased as she walked over to the closet. She smiled knowing that Harm was blushing as she pulled her uniform and her undergarments out of it. She was careful not to reveal her bra and underwear to Harm as she turned to go back into the bathroom.  
  
"All the worrying about what to pack," Harm sighed dramatically and smiled, "And that's what you brought?" 


	5. Chap 5

0900 Local Naval Ops London, England  
  
Harm and Mac stood at attention inside the Admiral's empty office. The office wasn't nearly as large as Admiral Chegwidden's, but it was smartly furnished. The Admiral entered the room and both Mac and Harm straightened a bit more. He was a sour looking man in his late fifties. His salt and pepper hair was meticulously groomed and his mouth was set in a thin frown.  
  
"At ease," he said grouchily, "Where is O'Connor?"  
  
"Here, sir," Lynn said from behind him. She was dressed much the same as she was yesterday. Her hair was again braided into an oval around the back of her head, and she as wearing another tailored black suit, however, she had very faint circles under her eyes.  
  
The Admiral walked to his desk and sat in his chair, and even sitting he cut an intimidating figure.  
  
"Yeoman," he yelled.  
  
A few seconds later, a young Petty Officer nervously appeared in the door, "Aye, sir?"  
  
"Get me Hampton from PR."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir," said the petty officer, and he left.  
  
"Colonel, Commander," said the Admiral, "Take a seat. You, too, O'Connor."  
  
The Admiral huffily shuffled through some of the papers on his desk. Harm thought the desk looked a lot like his own: covered with papers that were only just organized. The door to the office opened again and a Lieutenant Commander entered.  
  
"Sir, Lt. Commander Hampton reporting as ordered, sir."  
  
"Hampton, this is Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie and Commander Harmon Rabb. They're here representing Admiral Chegwidden," Admiral Grant said, "Please, explain how the press conference will go."  
  
As if on cue, Hampton said, "The statement I had written for Admiral Chegwidden will still work. Which of you will be reading?"  
  
Harm spoke up. "Colonel Mackenzie is Chief of Staff at HQ, so she should probably read."  
  
Mac shot him a look that said 'Why did you do that?" but she nodded formally to the others in the room.  
  
"Okay, ma'am. You'll be reading this statement," Hampton said handing her a sheet of paper. "It basically says that you fully support the actions taken by our JAG, Lt. Elliot."  
  
Mac nodded at Hampton, and read the statement. When she'd finished reading, she nodded at Harm. They seemed to be agreeing they actually did support the actions that had been taken. Neither of them wanted to put their names on something that they didn't agree with.  
  
Hampton took their nods as a sign to continue. "After you've read that statement to the press, you'll introduce Lt. Elliot who will relate more details to the case, and you'll be done."  
  
"What do we say to the press if we see them again?" Harm asked.  
  
"Repeat that statement," Hampton instructed, "Or just say that you fully support the actions taken by Lt. Elliot. That way there'll be no confusion."  
  
There was a brief silence, during which Admiral Grant continued to shuffle the papers around on his desk. Harm now thought that the Admiral's desk looked more like Mac's. Then he looked up at them. "You all understand?" He asked irritably.  
  
"Yes, sir," they all replied.  
  
"Colonel Mackenzie, after you've read that statement, you and Commander Rabb will leave the conference and Miss O'Connor will assist you in establishing your wardrobe for tonight and tomorrow."  
  
The officers replied 'yes, sir,' and Lynn nodded. Mac had almost forgotten that she was there.  
  
"Alright, let's get this over with," the Admiral said as he rose from his desk. All the other officers rose from their seats as well and stood at attention. They all followed him out the door, down the hall and to a room that was full of reporters. Hampton walked in first. From outside the room the others listened.  
  
"Welcome to the Naval Headquarters here in the UK," he began, "Thank you all for coming. As you know, a few days ago an altercation took place between two United States Naval Officers and one Her Majesty's Royal Naval Officer. Lt. Colonel Mackenzie will begin our conference."  
  
As Mac entered the room and walked to the podium, the photographers in the room snapped pictures. Mac looked out at the reporters, and without looking at the statement in front of her, she said, "Again, thank you for coming. I am Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, and am here representing the United States Navy Judge Advocate General, Admiral AJ Chegwidden. On December 14, Lieutenants Peter Carlson and Russell Thorpe, both of the US Navy, were involved in an altercation with Lieutenant Edward Smythe, of Her Majesty's Royal Navy, in a pub called The Black Rose. Lieutenant Ian Elliot, US Navy JAG Corps, led the investigation and prosecution of this case. Lt. Elliot found that all parities involved were equally accountable and recommended non-punitive letters of reprimand as the only form of punishment inflicted upon lieutenants Carlson and Thorpe."  
  
Mac paused to let those of the reporters who were writing to catch up. Then, she continued, "As a representative of Admiral Chegwidden, I fully support the actions taken by Lt. Elliot in this case. Thank you. Lt. Elliot will speak next."  
  
As Mac turned to leave, questions erupted from the reporters, but she didn't turn to answer them. But before she reached the door a young lieutenant, who she assumed was Lt. Elliot, stopped her.  
  
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, looking truly grateful.  
  
"You did the right thing, lieutenant," Mac said, shaking his hand, and she continued past him and out of the conference.  
  
"Good job, Marine," Harm said, looking at her with pride. Only then did Mac relax.  
  
"You two are dismissed," the Admiral said in his sour tone.  
  
They came to attention. "Aye, aye, sir," they said, and accompanied by Lynn, walked out down the hallway.  
  
"You handled that very well, Colonel," Lynn said.  
  
Still walking, Mac turned to look at Lynn and smiled. "Thanks," she said, "Where are we headed now?"  
  
"Back to the hotel, first," Lynn said, "Then, to Oxford Street."  
  
"Why the hotel first?" Harm asked.  
  
"So you can change," Lynn explained, "I thought you might not want to draw a lot of attention to yourselves."  
  
"Good point," he replied.  
  
When they reached the doors out to the street, they saw that it was pouring again.  
  
"Does the sun ever shine in England?" Mac asked.  
  
Lynn smiled. "Once and a while." She pulled her cell phone out from where it had been clipped to her waist under her suit coat. "Hello, Gray, can you send a car round to the red for me. Thanks."  
  
"We get out own car," Harm said impishily, even though he was impressed. "What did you mean by 'the red'?"  
  
"Well, first of all, there's no way we'd get a taxi in this weather, Commander," Lynn replied, "And, secondly, we call this building 'The Red' because it's shorter than saying Navy Headquarters, and the building is red."  
  
A few minutes later a black car pulled up and Mac, Harm and Lynn all rushed out into the rain. Harm held the door open for Lynn and Mac, and he slammed it shut when he had clambered in.  
  
"Miss O'Connor," a heavily accented voice called from the driver's seat, "Where to?"  
  
"Hello, Nick. The Commons Hotel, please."  
  
When they arrived at the hotel, Lynn greeted the doorman, "Hello, Thomas."  
  
"Top o' the morning to you, Miss O'Connor," he replied crisply, "Colonel, Commander."  
  
"Hello," Mac greeted him, and Harm nodded politely, "Thank you for the breakfast this morning; it was wonderful.  
  
Lynn stopped outside the elevators, and said, "I'll just wait down here for you."  
  
Harm and Mac both disappeared into the elevator and returned a few minutes later wearing the same clothes the had worn the night before to the restaurant. Despite all her worries about packing, Mac had brought only her uniforms and this simple outfit in the end. Harm was rather amused by it. In almost no time at all, they were back in the car on their way to a boutique called Phillipe's, which Lynn claimed was one of the best in London. 


	6. Chap 6

1100 Local  
  
Phillipe's  
  
London, England  
  
The moment Mac stepped into the shop she could feel the energy. One one side of the shop tens of divine dresses shone on the racks and on display. They came in every fabric, color and style imaginable. On the other side were suits, tuxedos, and formal kilts, all of them meticulously made and matched. Harm knew he was walking into a man's worst nightmare.  
  
"This could take a long time," he mumbled. And Mac shook her head at him and smiled.  
  
A blond woman in her early thirties came out onto the floor to greet them. "Ah, Lynnea," she said with too much enthusiasm.  
  
"Hello, Cynthia," Lynn said politely, "Would you tell Phillipe that I'm here with a new client, please?"  
  
The woman smiled, and said, "He's in the back. I'll get him." And she disappeared through a curtained door.  
  
"Harm, I'm never going to be able to pick a dress," Mac whispered, "They're all so beautiful."  
  
Harm nodded; and then, he realized that instead of fearing a nightmarish experience, he secretly hoped that it would take all afternoon for them to find Mac the perfect dresses. That way, he'd be able to see her in all of them.  
  
"Lynnea," came a man's voice, crisply accented, "How are you, darling?"  
  
"Phillipe," Lynn reached her hand out to him, and he kissed it.  
  
"You must be here for your dresses," Phillipe said, "They're ready in the back, and they're fabulous."  
  
"Actually, Phillipe, I'd like you to meet Commander Harmon Rabb and Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie," Lynn said indicating Harm and Mac.  
  
Phillipe looked them over as they walked toward him.  
  
"Harm," Harm said holding out his hand.  
  
"Mm, Mm. Perfect build, broad shoulders, thin hips," Phillipe said as he circled around Harm, "Dark hair. Oh, and those eyes." He paused continuing to look him over. Mac stood off to the side a little bit struggling to hold in her mirth.  
  
"Actually, sir," Harm said, uncomfortable, but flattered, "Colonel Mackenzie is the one who needs your attentions."  
  
Lynn smiled broadly at the disappointed look on Phillipe's face, and said, "She'll be attending the premier tonight and the Christmas Ball tomorrow evening with Admiral Grant."  
  
He turned his gaze on Mac. "Hmm, excellent figure, good skin tone and hair color," he said, circling her. Now, Harm stood back and watched as Phillipe scrutinized Mac. "Now, this will be fun." Phillipe said as he took a surprised Mac's arm in his and lead her toward the back. "Cynthia, bring the navy chiffon and the red silk back to the main dressing room," he called when they had reached the curtain. Lynn and Harm followed closely behind him.  
  
Over the next hour, Mac modeled many different dresses for Phillipe. She tried on dresses that were red, gold, green and blue, dresses that had full bell skirts, dresses that clung to her, dresses that had slits up to her mid-thigh. But despite all the hard work, they couldn't find the perfect dresses. Phillipe wasn't discouraged and Harm was thoroughly enjoying himself, for Mac had been parading around in beautiful dresses for the last hour.  
  
"We'll find the perfect ones yet," Phillipe said, "Even if you have to try on every dress in the shop."  
  
Even though she had spent much of the last hour reading over paperwork or talking on her cell phone, Lynn had noticed that with every dress Mac tried on she got more frustrated, so when Mac went to change yet again, Lynn followed her.  
  
"Ma'am, are you alright?"  
  
Mac gave and exasperated sigh, and flung the wrap she was holding onto the floor. "Yes, I'm fine," she said, very unconvincingly. Then she sighed and told Lynn said, "I don't know what to look for and I feel like I have no control over what's going on."  
  
Lynn nodded. "Would you like to see what I'm going to be wearing," she suggested, "You could get an idea of what to look for."  
  
Mac thought for a moment. "That would be nice," she finally said.  
  
"And it would give you a chance to grab a bite to eat," Lynn said, mentioning the food platter Phillipe had ordered in.  
  
"And stay in the same clothes for more than five minutes," Mac added.  
  
Lynn left the changing room, and said, "Phillipe, Mac would like to see what I'll be wearing, so she can get a better idea of what we're looking for."  
  
"Excellent idea," Phillipe said, "Cynthia, would you please get Lynnea's dresses from backroom?"  
  
"Of course," Cynthia, who had been doing nothing but retrieving gowns, said through her teeth, "I'll be right back."  
  
Mac came out of the changing room wearing a black satin robe and took a seat next to Harm. Harm's eyes widened and he watched as the robe rippled and shone with every graceful step Mac took. By the time, she sat down, he had recovered his thoughts and his voice.  
  
"I don't know what all the fuss is about," Harm said, "I thought you looked great in all of them."  
  
"Thanks, Harm," she said thankfully.  
  
In a few moments, Cynthia returned carrying a simple black dress and a shimmering mint green ball gown. Over her shoulder were a matching wrap and a pair of matching gloves.  
  
"Now, Lynnea, go put on the opera dress and come back out," Phillipe ordered.  
  
Lynn took the dresses and accessories from Cynthia and disappeared behind into the dressing room. When emerged she was wearing a simple two-piece thin-strapped black dress. It was fitted to her figure and the slim skirt made her seem taller. The ends of the mint green wrap were draped over each of her elbows. She was stunning.  
  
"You see how the cut of the dress calls attention to her figure, and the wrap adds a dash of color. But it's simple and subdued, so she won't draw too much attention," Phillipe said. Then, he said, "Now, Lynnea, take your hair down. For God's sake, girl, don't hide your light."  
  
Lynn looked at Phillipe, daring him to make her, but she began to pull the pins out of her hair. After she had pulled out the first few, two braids tumbled off her head. She undid the braids and a mass of auburn-gold waves cascaded down to her mid back.  
  
"You see how the green brings out the color of her eyes and offers a stark contrast to her hair," Phillipe pointed out, then he turned to Mac, "But for you Colonel, we'll need something." then he paused, and he jumped up, "Cynthia, the black, drape neck."  
  
When Cynthia returned with the dress, Mac disappeared back into the dressing room, and few moments later came out, and Harm's jaw dropped. This dress hugged Mac's curves. The draped neckline displayed her collarbone, and as she turned, Harm saw that it draped down her back, forming a 'U' of bare skin.  
  
"This is it," Phillipe said, "It's perfect. It shows just enough, but covers enough to leave an onlooker wondering."  
  
Mac stopped turning and looked at Harm. He was staring at her. "What do you think?"  
  
"Wow," was all he could say.  
  
Mac smiled. "I like it."  
  
"You'll turn a few heads, ma'am," Lynn said.  
  
Phillipe nodded and smiled proudly. "Lynnea, would you please change into the ball gown now."  
  
"Sure," Lynn replied, and she disappeared.  
  
While Lynn was changing, Phillipe and Cynthia fitted Mac with a pair of black strapy high heels. They also found a little handbag and a pair of black gloves. They finished the outfit with a pair of pearl earrings and two pearly hair clips. Mac looked more elegant than she ever had, thought Harm. She seemed to be just as at home in this dress as she was in her uniform as she sat comfortably eating cucumber sandwiches with him.  
  
"Do they have any real food?" she asked Harm in whisper.  
  
"This is real food," Harm said, "You just don't recognize it."  
  
Mac smirked. "You don't know what you're missing." 


	7. Chap 7

"This debate goes back a long way, doesn't it?"  
  
Mac and Harm both looked up. Lynn had emerged from the changing room.  
  
"Yeah, about six years," Mac said looking over Lynn, "You look amazing."  
  
"Thank you." The mint colored dress she wore was made of satin. It was styled with a modest drape neck in the front, which draped just low enough. In the back, the drape fell to just below her shoulder blades. The rest of the dress fit gracefully to her figure and seemed to flow to the floor like a gentle mist.  
  
"Now, Colonel," Phillipe began, showing Mac the qualities of the dress, "Look at her eyes. The color of the gown makes her eyes piercingly sharp, and it shows a beautiful feminine Kate."  
  
Lynn rolled her eyes. "Phillipe, we picked this dress because it's practical. This just happened to be this color and style."  
  
Phillipe gave her a guilty smile. "I made it with you in mind, Lynnea. You can imagine how thrilled I was when you picked it," he confessed.  
  
"You didn't tell me that," Lynn said happily surprised, "Thank you so much."  
  
"You're very welcome, girl," he said, and then turned to Mac, "For you, Colonel, I think we should go for something more powerful. Lynnea's dresses are always more subdued because she needs to be able to slip through the crowds without gathering too much attention. You, on the other hand, will want to be noticed."  
  
Mac looked at Harm with her eyebrows raised. "I think being with you ought to be enough, don't you?"  
  
"Dress whites and gold wings," Harm replied smiling.  
  
Phillipe sighed, "Never worked on me. Then again, I've never really had a thing for men in uniform."  
  
Lynn stifled a giggle, but both Mac and Harm couldn't withhold snickers.  
  
"Well, if you're going to laugh," Phillipe said sarcastically and pursing his lips. Then, he smiled and brought his attention back to Mac, "What about gold?"  
  
Lynn studied Mac for a moment, and then shook her head. "I think gold may wash her out. How about burnt orange?"  
  
"Too autumn," Phillipe said in return, "I think we need to get dangerous."  
  
He went into the front of the store, followed by Cynthia, and when they came back, their arms were full of gowns, each a different shade of red.  
  
"That's awfully risky, Phillipe," Lynn said.  
  
"It's Christmas," Phillipe replied, "And she can pull it off."  
  
Mac looked at Phillipe, "Want to clue me in?"  
  
"Red is a tough color," Lynn said while Phillipe put the gowns into the changing room, "It takes a lot to wear it successfully: the right hair, skin tone, and attitude."  
  
Harm stood off to the side smiling smugly.  
  
"She can do it," Phillipe said, "Now, Colonel, go try them on. I want you to model them each for us."  
  
Mac sighed, and left for the changing room. Lynn followed her. When they were both in the room, Mac began sorting through the gowns while Lynn started to slip out of her dress. Mac had all but forgotten Harm's words of weariness about Lynn from the night before. In fact, Mac was starting to like her very much.  
  
"Just pick one," Lynn advised, "He'll probably make you try them all anyway."  
  
Mac nodded. "Lynn, are people really going to be watching Harm and I?"  
  
"Not as much as Phillipe is making you think they will," Lynn assured her, "But you will be noticed, ma'am. I'm surprised that you haven't drawn more attention than you have. Besides, you and the Commander together will be too handsome not to notice."  
  
Mac blushed a little bit. "The Commander is always turning heads."  
  
"Even yours, ma'am?"  
  
Mac raised her surprised eyes to Lynn's.  
  
Lynn's eyes widened and for a moment she looked a lot like a guilty Harriet. She quickly backpedaled, "Ma'am, I'm sorry. I was out of line."  
  
Lynn's apology put Mac at ease. "It's alright, Lynn," she said, "Please call me Mac."  
  
"Okay," Lynn said smiling as she focused on the buttons of her shirt.  
  
"And yes," Mac added, "I do find Commander Rabb to be handsome."  
  
As she spoke, Mac changed into one of the dresses. It was a cherry red v- necked silk. Lynn was now dressed in her skirt and button down shirt; she was braiding her hair back into its oval.  
  
"Lynn, when you have a second, could you zip this for me?"  
  
Lynn pushed the last pin into her hair and zipped the back of Mac's dress. She looked over Mac's shoulder and into the mirror. She and Mac looked at the reflection of the other's face and giggled. The dress was hideous. It was a beautiful dress, but on Mac it looked silly.  
  
"What's going on in there?" Harm called.  
  
Both women smiled like schoolgirls, their eyes filled with mirth.  
  
"Nothing," Lynn called in a voice that still quivered with laughter, "I'll leave you to the rest." Mac smiled and Lynn left the changing room, careful not to give the men a view of Mac.  
  
"Miss O'Connor, what was so funny?" Harm asked. He looked playfully stern.  
  
"Girl talk," Lynn answered.  
  
"Oh," Harm said knowingly.  
  
"Don't ask too many questions," Phillipe told him, "Even I don't understand girl talk, and I'm gay."  
  
Harm and Lynn both laughed. Over the next thirty minutes, Mac modeled ten different gowns. Each gown was beautiful in its own right, but still none of them were perfect. Phillipe would like the color of one dress, but not the cut. He'd like the fabric, but the detailing would be wrong. Mac didn't mind so much. She was happy to share meaningful glances and break into giggles with Lynn after Phillipe declared each dress imperfect. It was as if the two women had formed a bosom friendship over the last few hours.  
  
"Come on, ladies," Phillipe chided, "We'll never find the right one if you two don't take this more seriously." Harm even chuckled at Phillipe's annoyance.  
  
Mac returned to the dressing room, but when she came out again, Harm stopped talking in mid-sentence. He looked her up and down, but his eyes settled on her face. She looked as if she had just stepped out of one of his dreams. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed; her hair was messily brushed off her forehead. But it was something in her presence that struck him as compelling.  
  
"Mac?" he whispered, unsure if he was dreaming.  
  
"That good, huh?" Mac asked smiling.  
  
"Pinch yourself, sailor boy," Phillipe quipped aside to Harm, then said in a louder tone, "This is the one. I don't have words for it."  
  
"That's a first," said Lynn, "Mac, you look absolutely stunning."  
  
Mac's dress was crimson red. The full bell skirt shimmered with the organza layer, and was lined at the bottom with ribbon of the same crimson color. The embroidered corset, which displayed Mac's voluptuous hourglass figure, was laced up with inch-thick ribbon. If the dress had been white, it would have been a wedding gown, and Lynn wasn't surprised that Harm was lost for words.  
  
"We'll finish the dress with a white faux fur wrap," Phillipe said as he wrapped it around her shoulders, "You can wear pearls with it and we'll get you matching shoes."  
  
"Phillipe, I can't thank you enough," Mac said.  
  
"Oh, don't worry about that," Phillipe said, "Seeing you like this is enough. Besides the Admiral will be providing generous 'thanks.'"  
  
Mac smiled and shook her head. Harm still sat dumbly looking at her. Lynn kicked him gently in the shin. Harm jerked around as if he'd forgotten there were other people in the room. He looked at Lynn, who smiled back at him, but tipped her head toward Mac. She seemed to be silently telling him, 'Say something to her.'  
  
Harm cleared his throat. "You're incredible."  
  
Mac's face lit up, but Harm continued, "I mean, you look great."  
  
Her face fell a little, but she quickly smiled. "Oh, well, thanks, Harm."  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence that Lynn broke, "Mac, why don't you go change, and I'll wrap things up out here."  
  
Mac nodded. She took off the faux fur wrap and walked back to the changing room. Harm hung his head and Mac she had closed the door, Phillipe said, "Way to go, Casanova."  
  
Harm gave him a frustrated look. He knew he'd messed that up, but he didn't need anyone else to point it out. He did think Mac was incredible, and she did look great. She looked more than great, she was astonishing: strong and graceful, simple and elegant. She was Mac, and she was Sarah.  
  
"Commander," Lynn said softly, "I'm settled with Phillipe, so we can leave as soon as the Colonel is ready."  
  
Harm nodded. "What's next, Miss O'Connor?"  
  
"We meet the Admiral at 1800," Lynn said, "So you and the Colonel will have about two hours to go get some dinner, and then I'll meet you back at the Commons at 1645."  
  
"Thank you for doing this," Harm said.  
  
"It's my job, sir."  
  
"Would you please call me 'Harm'?  
  
Lynn smiled, and Mac appeared a moment later. She was back in her jeans and sweater. Phillipe came to usher them out the door. John, the car driver, greeted them. He took the covered gowns and the accessories and put them in the trunk.  
  
"It was a pleasure meeting you," Phillipe said, "Enjoy the dresses."  
  
"Thanks again, Phillipe," Mac said, shaking his hand. Then, she turned and stepped into the waiting car.  
  
"I'll see you again soon," Lynn said, and she plopped into the seat next to Mac.  
  
Phillipe shook Harm's hand, and he leaned in and said, "I wouldn't let that one get away. The other fish don't have anything on her."  
  
When Phillipe let go of his hand, Harm looked gruff for a moment, but then his face softened and he nodded. He got into the car and they drove off.  
  
1420 Local Commons Hotel London, England  
  
Harm and Mac both stepped out of the car. The ride back the hotel had been completely silent. The tension between the two officers was so thick that Lynn could have cut through it with a knife. As Mac was turning to walk into the hotel, Lynn called, "Mac, Harm, I'll meet you here in the lobby at 1645. Try to relax and get something to eat."  
  
Mac nodded and then she turned and walked off. Harm thanked Lynn, and followed Mac. She was already waiting at the elevators when Harm caught up with her.  
  
"Mac," he tried, "I'm sorry about before."  
  
Mac turned her head away from him and focused on wall. Harm stayed silent. The elevator ride was chilly, as neither one said a word. They walked down the hallway to their rooms. Mac started to search her pockets for her key.  
  
"Damn," she said angrily, "I left my key in the room."  
  
"I'll let you in through mine," Harm offered. He, too, was searching his pockets. "Well, I would have, but I think I left my key in my room, too."  
  
Mac made a face. "Perfect," she sneered.  
  
"Hey, you forgot yours, too," Harm reminded her.  
  
"I wasn't blaming the fact that we're locked out of our rooms on you."  
  
Harm took a deep breath. "Look, Mac," he said as calmly as he could, "I meant what I said when I said you were incredible."  
  
"Yeah, my body," Mac said icily.  
  
"No, all of you," Harm corrected her, "Your body, your mind, your heart. Sarah, you are incredible. You're breathtaking when you're just sitting over your cluttered desk. You're passion for the Marine Corps, and law, is so strong. The way you love Chloe and little AJ is amazing. Sarah, you are the most incredible woman I have ever met."  
  
Mac was stunned by Harm's words. "Then, why."  
  
"Because I didn't want to say that in front of Lynn and Phillipe," Harm explained, "I wanted to tell you when it was just us."  
  
Mac smiled up at him. Harm smiled back at her and opened his arms. Mac stepped into them and wrapped her arms around Harm's neck, but soon she was so happy that she began to giggle. Harm chuckled a little, then he said, "We must look like a couple of idiots. Let's go get some dinner."  
  
Mac unwrapped her arms and stepped out of the hug. "Where?" she asked.  
  
"The hotel restaurant?" Harm suggested.  
  
"Sounds good to me." And they set off for the hotel restaurant hand and hand. 


	8. Chap 8

1700 Local Commons Hotel London, England  
  
Lynn sat in one of the leather chairs waiting for Mac and Harm; the opera dresses from Phillipe's were draped over the chair beside her. When Lynn finally saw them coming out of the restaurant, she noticed a new luster in Mac's eyes and saw her arm entwined with Harm's.  
  
"Did you enjoy your dinner?" she asked when they reached her.  
  
"Very much," Harm said, as he released Mac's arm and picked up the dresses.  
  
Mac, though, was watching Lynn's face, for though she was trying to smile and look nonchalant, she couldn't conceal the worry in her features. Mac caught her eye and saw that they flashed with warning.  
  
"Ladies, shall we?" Harm said, oblivious to what had passed.  
  
"Yes, of course," Lynn said.  
  
When all three of them had entered Mac's room and Harm had set the dresses down, Lynn looked then over. Harm still hadn't noticed the tension between the two women in the room.  
  
"Well, I'll leave you two to get dressed," he said and went to dress in his own room.  
  
Mac gathered her dress into her arms and disappeared into the bathroom before Lynn could say anything. She hung the dress on a hook on the back of the door, and turned to face her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed red, and she looked guilty, even to herself. 'Suck it up, Marine,' she said to herself. And she changed into her dress.  
  
By the time, Mac came out of the bathroom; Lynn had also changed and let down her hair. She still looked worried; she turned to face Mac, and said carefully, "Ma'am, the press will be watching you tonight."  
  
Mac tried to shake it off. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Ma'am, you know what I mean," Lynn replied.  
  
Mac paused, then she nodded. "I know."  
  
"Ma'am."  
  
"Stop calling me 'ma'am,'" Mac interrupted, "Call me."  
  
But Lynn interrupted her, "Look, you're going to be in front of the British Press. They're ruthless, and if you give them anything, they'll rip you to shreds."  
  
Mac sat down like a chastised teenager. Lynn softened and sat down next to her. "Mac," she said, "It's only for a couple of days. After that."  
  
"After that, we'll have to keep it from our CO and our friends," Mac said sadly.  
  
Lynn nodded understandingly. "You'll find a way to make it work."  
  
Mac sighed.  
  
"Come on," Lynn said, ending the sad conversation, "I'll help you dress your hair and then I'll give you and Harm some time to talk."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Mac said as she smiled.  
  
Lynn used the two pearl clips that Phillipe had given Mac to pull up two small bits of Mac's hair. The effect made Mac's face look softer and younger. When Mac looked at her reflection, she liked it. Lynn pinned up some of her own hair, but let most of her wavy tresses hang loose. She gave Mac a comforting look, and then she knocked on the dividing door. Harm opened it almost immediately. He was fully dressed in his dress blues, his wings shining above his ribbons.  
  
"Sir, I'll be waiting downstairs with the car," Lynn said brightly, "So, when Mac is finished getting ready, you can join me."  
  
"Alright," he said, matching her tone and holding the door open for her.  
  
As soon as Lynn was gone, he turned to Mac, and, as far as he could see, she was completely ready, wrap and all. "You look ready to me."  
  
Mac knew that he was joking, but she didn't feel like laughing. "Harm, Lynn and I were talking, and I think we need to cool it down a bit."  
  
Harm felt like he had just been punched in the stomach, and Mac's heart broke at the look on his face. "Why?" he asked incredulously.  
  
"Harm, the press has us under a spotlight," Mac explained, "We can't risk being seen as anything but professional."  
  
"Huh," he said disdainfully. "You know, if this is how you felt in Sydney, I can commiserate with you now."  
  
Mac's face fell and she felt worse. "I'm not talking about cooling it forever. All I meant was that we can't let the press see us. God, we've been pretending for five years, a few more days won't kill us."  
  
Harm looked down into Mac's eyes and he knew what she was really saying. She had said that she was as ready as she had ever been to take this step. She'd been ready longer than he had and she'd given him more chances that he'd deserved, but he'd never been ready. How stupid he had been. She had also said that she didn't want to hide how she felt any more than he did.  
  
"I understand, Sarah," he said softly, "I'll pretend in front of the press, but not here. Not here when we're alone."  
  
Mac smiled tearfully up at him. "That's twice today that you've made me cry, stickboy."  
  
"Only happy tears, though."  
  
As the embraced, Mac leaned her head back to look up at Harm and he looked down at her. Her brown eyes were glittering with unshed tears and her cheeks were flushed. Before he could stop himself, he tipped his head forward and his lips met hers. The kiss was soft and sure, as if he was sealing a promise. When they separated, Mac smiled up at him.  
  
"We're going to be late."  
  
"Only a marine could kill the mood that quickly," Harm joked, and Mac punched him playfully in the shoulder.  
  
"Come on, sailor."  
  
Mac led Harm by the hand toward the door, but when she opened it, Harm pushed it shut again. She looked questioningly up at him. "Are you ready?" he asked.  
  
She looked down over her dress, and said, "Yes, I am."  
  
"I meant."  
  
"I know what you meant."  
  
When they stepped off the elevator, they saw Lynn waiting for them in the middle of the lobby talking on her cell phone. When she saw them, Lynn noticed that they were standing carefully apart, and that they both looked extremely happy.  
  
"Well, that didn't take you too long," she commented, putting her phone into her handbag.  
  
Harm gave her a knowing look. "Come on, we'll miss the show." 


	9. Chap 9

After they met Lynn, she led the two officers out the car that had driven them earlier that day. Harm opened the back door and Mac and Lynn slipped into the back seat. The short drive to the Embassy was amiable as they were all in good moods. They walked into the lobby at precisely 1800 and the Admiral was already waiting for them.  
  
The Admiral barely looked up from the file he was reading when they entered, but he did acknowledge them with a small wave. He was dressed in his dress blues and appeared to be ready to leave for the opera, but his facial expression looked infuriated.  
  
"Take a seat," he curtly, still looking at the file. Harm and Mac sat in chairs facing the Admiral. Lynn remained standing behind the chairs, but the Admiral didn't notice because he was still engrossed in whatever it was that he was reading. "Colonel, you did well this morning," he said, "But now the press knows that you two are here and they know your schedule, so you'll be under scrutiny. Can you handle that?"  
  
"Absolutely, sir," Harm said strongly.  
  
"Colonel?" he asked, even more sourly that before, as he looked up.  
  
"Yes, sir," Mac answered determined, "I can handle it."  
  
"Well, you certainly clean up nice," he smirked as he looked over Mac, and Harm's blood boiled.  
  
Mac swallowed the retort she wanted to make, and simply nodded her head so the Admiral wouldn't see her blazing eyes. The Admiral put the file he had been reading into his briefcase and rose from the chair, followed quickly by Harm and Mac. "Let's get going," he snapped, "The car is waiting."  
  
Harm and Mac fell in behind him and Lynn brought up the rear as they all left the lobby, walked down the corridor and out of the Embassy. They all slid into a limousine that had pulled up: Lynn first, followed by Harm, then Mac, and finally Admiral Grant. The Admiral didn't say anything during the half hour it took to get to the theater, and as he said nothing, neither did the others.  
  
When they pulled up to the entrance, after waiting in a line of limos for ten minutes, they filed out in reverse order. The press was gathered along the red cord ropes snapping pictures of everyone who was entering the theatre, but when they saw the Admiral's uniform they started shouting questions as well as shooting pictures as fast as they could. The Admiral just nodded to them and held his hand out for Mac to clasp as she exited the limo. Mac took his hand, and made a perfect exit: she kept her knees tightly together and her back straight so she wouldn't reveal anything. The Admiral put Mac's hand into the crook of his arm and they stepped out of the way so that Harm and Lynn could exit the limo. Harm stepped out and came to his full height, nodded and smiled to the crowd and offered his hand to Lynn, who like Mac exited the limo perfectly. The Admiral turned to walk up the carpet and into the theatre with Mac on his arm, Harm following behind them with Lynn. The reporters shouted questions about the case, and the photographers clicked, but the group just smiled at them and walked into the theatre.  
  
Once they were inside, the Admiral continued to keep Mac's hand in his arms. He greeted other diplomats and introduced Mac as 'Sarah Mackenzie', leaving out the fact that she as an officer in the US Marine Corps. Harm followed behind the Admiral, but the Admiral forgot about him more often than not, which was a new experience for Harm. When the Admiral blatantly forgot to introduce him, Lynn stepped in after the Admiral had walked away, and introduced Harm. Most of the diplomats were polite, some were even friendly. Harm shook hands with more people than he could remember, and kissed the hands of he didn't know how many ladies.  
  
"Don't worry, sir," Lynn whispered, "Just a few more minutes."  
  
Harm nodded and he smiled sincerely; if he still had doubts about her, they were laid to rest for the moment. They caught up with the Admiral who was now leading Mac up the stairs to where they'd find their seats in a reserved box. Harm could tell by the rigid tension of her back that Mac was fuming.  
  
When they'd reached the box, Mac would have smiled, for it looked just like the ones she'd seen in movies: the door, complete with red curtains, and the red cushioned chairs facing the stage. The Admiral let go of her arm and moved to the front seat nearest the railing.  
  
Harm allowed Lynn to slip her hand from his elbow and take a seat, so he could take the opportunity to talk with Mac for a moment. She glanced at him, and Harm could see the anger in her eyes, knowing that she was just barely keeping her cool. "Easy, marine," he whispered.  
  
Mac closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The tension left her and when she opened her eyes, she looked gratefully at Harm, thanking him without words. Then, she took her seat next to Admiral Grant and Harm insisted that Lynn sit near the rail before he took his seat. In about five minutes, the house lights dimmed, the audience fell silent and the opera began.  
  
Even though they couldn't understand the words of the singers, Harm and Mac sat in complete awe. The music reverberated around the theatre in its glorious tones, and it seemed to fill them completely. It washed over Mac and she forgot that there was anyone else around her as her head swayed with the music.  
  
All too soon, it was intermission.  
  
When Mac stood, Harm watched as the muscles in her back, smooth and strong, contracted and stretched. He shook himself and rose to his feet as well. "So, what do you think so far?" He asked her.  
  
"It's amazing, beautiful," she replied, her voice distant as if she was drifting through the music.  
  
Lynn smiled as she watched the exchange, and then she leaned forward and addressed the Admiral. "Sir, if you'll excuse me, I need to powder my nose."  
  
The Admiral grunted his approval and Lynn began to leave the box.  
  
"Lynn," Mac called, before turning to the Admiral, "May accompany her, sir?"  
  
The Admiral grunted again. Harm gave Mac a pleading look and Mac smiled apologetically. Harm retook his seat and absorbed himself in the opera program as the Admiral had apparently done.  
  
Lynn and Mac walked into the ladies restroom and were surprised to find no lines. When they returned the sitting room, Mac touched up her hair and straightened her dress and Lynn did the same.  
  
"If tomorrow is this much fun, I shouldn't be paid for it," Mac confided to Lynn.  
  
"I know what you mean, Mac," she said.  
  
"Do you see many operas?"  
  
"Yes, but not a lot of premiers. This is the first one I've attended," Lynn admitted as she paused to reapply some lipstick. "The Admiral doesn't seem to care for it, though. He didn't move at all through the entire first act."  
  
Mac didn't say anything because she knew it was one thing to share with Harm what she really felt about the Admiral, but she would never say anything inappropriate about him to anyone else.  
  
"I'll take your silence to mean that you noticed, too," Lynn said smiling, and Mac couldn't resist smiling in return. "I'll meet you back out there. I need touch up my hair."  
  
"Alright," Mac said and left the room. Mac walked slowly back to the box and on her way up the corridor she noticed that most of the other boxes' doors were open and their occupants had stepped into the corridor to talk. She wove her way through all the people and finally made it back to her seat. Harm was glad when she returned because now the silence didn't seem so uncomfortable.  
  
"Where's Miss O'Connor?" the Admiral asked gruffly, not looking at them.  
  
Harm just raised his eyebrows , and Mac said, "She needed to."  
  
Suddenly someone out in the corridor yelled, "Help! Someone stop that man!" 


	10. Chap 10

Harm and Mac both recognized the voice, and Harm bolted from his seat. He reached the door in two strides, flung it open and stepped out into the hallway and ran straight into him.  
  
"Stop him, Commander," Lynn yelled from where she was struggling to get up from the floor.  
  
Harm and the man crashed to the floor, wrestling with each other. Harm tried to pin the man down, but the man brought his knee up and thrust it soundly into Harm's chest.  
  
"Uh," Harm breathed as the wind rushed from his lungs. The man took the advantage, sprang up and he tried to run off down the hall, but Mac who had been only a few steps behind Harm, reached out and grabbed him by the arm. The man flung her to the floor and tried to kick out at her, but Mac blocked his foot. He turned away and dashed off. Mac tried to follow but was hampered by the skirt of her dress.  
  
"Damn!" she cursed. Then she looked to where Harm had gone down. He was doubled up, his knees to his chest, and his face was twisted in pain. She and Lynn reached him at the same time and they both knelt down beside him.  
  
"Commander, are you alright?" Lynn asked. Mac looked at her for a moment, and saw that her lip was swollen and bleeding.  
  
"I think so," he groaned. Every breath he took ached, and he knew the feeling. He tried to sit up, knowing that searing pain was coming. "Ow," he said when it hit.  
  
"Take it easy there, squid," Mac said helping him.  
  
Harm closed his eyes. "I'll be okay, I just need a minute."  
  
A moment later the Admiral appeared in the hallway, along with some of the other operagoers. He took in the scene before him, turned to the onlookers and said, "Go on back to the show. Everything seems to be under control."  
  
Most of the onlookers obeyed, and when the hall was empty save Lynn, Harm, and Mac and himself he hissed, "What the hell is going on?"  
  
Lynn held out a crumpled file, and as soon as the Admiral looked at it, he raised his eyes to hers.  
  
"Miss O'Connor, where did you get this?" the Admiral asked.  
  
"I was walking back from the powder room when a man bumped into me, spilling the contents of that file, sir."  
  
The Admiral took the file and briefly read through it pages and it didn't take long until the sour expression on his face was replaced by one of urgency. "What man? Where is he?"  
  
"Commander Rabb tried to stop him, but I think he may have been injured," Lynn answered, "The man got away, sir."  
  
Admiral Grant looked at the pained look on Harm's face. "You don't look so good yourself, Miss O'Connor," he said, "Commander, can you walk out of here without looking hurt?"  
  
Harm took a deep breath and said, "Yes, sir."  
  
"Good," Admiral Grant nodded, "Then, this is what we'll do. Colonel you'll get Miss O'Connor cleaned up and then we'll get the Commander to a hospital. Just try to hold it together until we're out of sight of the press."  
  
Harm nodded, and as he painfully struggled to his feet with Mac holding his arm, the Admiral returned to their seats to get their cover and bags. Once he was standing he shook the grimace off his face. "I'm alright as long as I don't move too much."  
  
When the Admiral returned Lynn pulled a handkerchief from her bag and hand it to Mac. Mac dabbed lightly at Lynn's swollen and bleeding lip. Soon, they were all ready to leave.  
  
They set off down the hallway, the Admiral leading the way, Mac helped Harm to follow and Lynn brought up the rear carrying everyone's coats, hats and handbags. They finally reached the entrance to the theater and walked out onto the red carpet that led from the door to the street. The reporters and photographers, who were still there, snapped pictures and asked questions about why they were leaving at intermission. But the officers and Lynn paid them no heed, the Admiral nodded to them and said 'official business', but he quickly stepped into the waiting limousine. Mac waited for Harm to slide in, and then followed. Lynn got in last, and shut the door.  
  
Harm was leaning his head back, and sweat glistened on his forehead. He was taking quick shallow breaths. Lynn rolled down the divider so she could speak to the driver.  
  
"Queen's Hospital, driver," she said curtly, "Step on it."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," the driver replied as the divider rose.  
  
Lynn retook her seat, and the admiral began to question her. "Miss O'Connor, was he the only man in the corridor?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Lynn answered.  
  
"Can you describe what the looked like?" he pressed her.  
  
"He was a few inches shorter than the Commander, had dark hair, broad shoulders," Lynn said, but then she paused and looked confused, "The lights were dimmed, and I didn't seen anything else. He was wearing a tuxedo though."  
  
"So were all the men in the audience," the Admiral sighed.  
  
"Did you see what race he was?" Mac asked.  
  
"I couldn't tell."  
  
For a moment Harm's painful breathing was the only sound they heard, then he finally said in a strained voice, "What's in that file, sir?"  
  
"It's classified information," the Admiral responded, "That came out of my office." 


	11. Chap 11

Mac sat back in her seat completely lost for words.  
  
"How did it get to the opera?" Lynn asked.  
  
The Admiral shook his head, "Someone in my office must have brought it."  
  
Harm shook his head, and said softly, "We don't know that for certain. Any number of people could have seen that file."  
  
"No, I received this file yesterday," the Admiral said, "After I had read it, my yeoman filed it in a secure file room. Only someone who knew what it was and knew the code to the file room could have taken it."  
  
"How would they know what was in the file?" Mac asked.  
  
"Every file that comes into this office is marked 'secret', 'classified', and carries its security level," the Admiral explained, "The person who took it would have to work in my office because the file would only have been opened here. It's marked 'classified level 2'."  
  
"What's contained in that file, sir?" Harm asked.  
  
"I can't reveal that," the Admiral said, "Level two clearance. I'm the only one who would have read it, assuming that all procedures were followed."  
  
Harm and Mac glanced at each other. "That makes you a suspect, sir," Mac said carefully.  
  
The Admiral nodded sourly. "I know that, colonel," he said, "Which is why I want you and Commander Rabb to investigate this, if the Commander is cleared for duty."  
  
Harm shot an uncertain look at Mac, and then said, "Sir, espionage is covered by NCIS and the CIA. The Colonel and I don't have much training in this area."  
  
"Well, you're going to handle this one," the Admiral said, "I want to keep this 'in house.' I don't the embarrassment, and it would take NCIS too long, and the CIA, well you know how they operate."  
  
Mac had to admit that she didn't want the CIA to handle this case, but, still, she wasn't sure that she and Harm should be handling the investigation. Upon seeing their questioning looks the Admiral continued, "We'll call Admiral Chegwidden and clear it with him." The Admiral checked his watch and said, "We might still catch him at the office."  
  
Lynn pulled out her cell phone and handed it to Mac so that she could dial the number. Once she had done so, she passed the phone to Admiral Grant, who was put through to Admiral Chegwidden. Their conversation was brief:  
  
"Admiral Chegwidden."  
  
"Admiral, this is Admiral Grant. I'm calling to clear an assignment for your officers."  
  
"That depends on the assignment," Admiral Chegwidden said.  
  
Admiral Grant nodded, "AJ, I would be the same with my people. Look, we've got an intelligence leak, and I want your people to investigate."  
  
Admiral Chegwidden blew out a breath before replying, "What kind of leak?"  
  
"It looks like someone in my office has been leaking classified materials. We don't know much yet, but I'll keep you posted," Admiral Grant tried to reassure him.  
  
"Look, Ethan," AJ said, "Those two are my best officers, and I don't want to lose them. I'll approve the assignment, as long as you do your best to return them in one piece."  
  
"I will, AJ," Admiral Grant replied, "Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome. May I speak to one of them?"  
  
"Of course." Admiral Grant handed the phone to Mac.  
  
Mac accepted the receiver carefully. "Admiral?"  
  
"Colonel, didn't I tell you to keep it simple?" the Admiral said in a commanding tone.  
  
"I apologize, sir," she said, "We just ran into this one."  
  
"Seems to happen a lot with you two," the Admiral said, and as Mac began to protest he continued, "Just be careful."  
  
"We will, sir."  
  
"Carry on, Colonel."  
  
"Yes, sir," Mac said, and she closed the phone and handed it back to Lynn.  
  
"So, there you have it," Admiral Grant said, "You two will handle this case."  
  
"Aye, sir," Harm said, and Mac nodded.  
  
"Miss O'Connor," the Admiral added. Harm and Mac both forgotten that Lynn was there in the limo with them. She had been sitting silently watching the conversation.  
  
"Yes, Admiral?" she replied.  
  
I want you to help the Commander and the Colonel."  
  
Lynn nodded, but Harm said, "Sir, it might be better for Miss O'Connor get out of this."  
  
"Miss O'Connor is very well connected here and I don't want to involve my people in the investigation because, as much as I hate to admit it, one of them is probably the leak," the Admiral said sharply.  
  
"Aye, sir," Harm. They arrived at Queen's hospital a minute later and Lynn stepped out and held the door Mac and Harm. The Admiral, however, kept his seat.  
  
"I want to see you all in this office at 0730 tomorrow and well start cracking this then, understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The Admiral slammed the door shut, and they heard him bellow to the driver. 


	12. Chap 13

The three of them walked into the emergency room. Lynn and Mac were allowed to go with Harm into an exam room where the doctor on duty looked him over. He instructed Harm to remove his uniform jacket and shirt. Harm's side was already bruising.  
  
"Commander, from look of this bruising I'd say you've broken at least one rib," the doctor told him, "We'll have to send you to x-ray, just to be sure."  
  
Harm nodded. "No, it's just bruised," he said, "I've had broken ribs before."  
  
"How did this happen?" the doctor asked.  
  
"I was pushed into a bar," Harm lied, "We were out having a few, and the guys got a little rowdy and."  
  
The doctor shook his head, "I guess the old adage is true- drunken sailors?"  
  
Harm smirked. He hated that label, but he had to admit that it could often be true.  
  
"A nurse will come by in a minute and take you up," the doctor said and he turned to leave, but he caught sight of Lynn. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Oh," Lynn said, "Um, I'm fine. Just a split lip is all."  
  
The doctor had stepped up to her and took her chin in his hand. Lynn's eyes flickered a little at his touch.  
  
"You don't need stitches," he said finally, "Just keep it clean." And he left.  
  
Mac looked at Lynn for a moment, then at Harm's black and blue side, and winced. "Harm, when have broken your ribs before?" she asked softly.  
  
"My crash," he answered not looking at her. Mac looked at him, her eyes filled with compassion. Harm cleared his throat, and Mac snapped back into Marine mode.  
  
"Lynn, are you okay being involved with this?" Mac asked shaking the images of what Harm must have looked like after his first crash from her head.  
  
Lynn nodded, "Absolutely."  
  
"Are you sure you really want to get involved with this," Harm asked, buttoning his shirt. "It might be dangerous."  
  
"Like the Admiral said, I'm well connected. You might need me," she said calmly, but then she smiled and added eagerly, "Besides, I'd like to try my hand at busting up espionage."  
  
Harm and Mac both smiled ruefully, but they liked Lynn's energy. The nurse came in then and took Harm up to X-ray. Mac and Lynn waited in the ER waiting room for him to return.  
  
"How long have you known Commander Rabb?" Lynn asked.  
  
"Seven years," Mac answered, as she sank into a chair and sighed.  
  
"You must have been through a lot together."  
  
Mac grinned, "Yeah, you could say that. We were partners for five years, and then he went back to flying."  
  
"Flying?"  
  
"Harm is an F-14 pilot," Mac said, but Lynn shook her head. Then, Mac asked, "Have you seen 'Top Gun'?"  
  
"Of course," Lynn smiled.  
  
"Well, those are F-14's," Mac told her, and paused.  
  
Lynn studied her face for a moment. "Why did he leave flying and choose to become a lawyer?"  
  
"He didn't really," Mac answered softly, "He got sick and his eyes were damaged, but he didn't know that. He crashed his tomcat onto a carrier deck."  
  
"Oh, my God."  
  
Mac nodded. "It wasn't easy for him. His RIO died in the crash. But eventually he recovered and decided to move on- to law school and the JAG Corps."  
  
"He sounds like a very strong man," Lynn said.  
  
"He's been through more than most," Mac admitted, "But we all have our trials."  
  
Lynn rose and got them both coffee, which Mac gratefully accepted.  
  
"You said he went back to flying?" Lynn asked.  
  
Mac lowered the Styrofoam cup, and nodded. "He had laser surgery and he went back to flying for a while. He came back to JAG a few months later, found out that JAG was where he belonged."  
  
Lynn just nodded.  
  
"So," Mac said changing the subject, "How did you become an attaché?"  
  
Lynn smiled shyly. "Well, I sort of fell into it. My grandmother brought me here when I was younger and I fell in love with England. I learned all I could about it, studied political science and then I attended a college for attaches.  
  
Mac giggled, and Lynn smiled and continued, "Laugh all you want. I got a job working here almost immediately. I've been working here for a while now, and I love it."  
  
"You're good at it."  
  
"Thank you, ma'am."  
  
"I thought we were past the 'ma'am' thing," Mac teased, and they both smiled.  
  
Harm returned a half an hour later; Mac and Lynn rejoined him in the exam room. He was completely dressed and ready to leave.  
  
"What's the diagnosis?" Mac cheerfully asked.  
  
"Two bruised ribs," he answered.  
  
"Must have been some hit," Mac said and Harm nodded. "Are you clear for duty?"  
  
"Yeah, as long as I keep it wrapped up," he replied, "There isn't a whole lot they can do for broken ribs except let them heal."  
  
"Vicadin?" Mac asked.  
  
"No, I hate that stuff, plus it would knock me flat. Tylenol."  
  
Mac smiled and nodded. Lynn stepped closer to them. "You must be exhausted Commander," she said, "Let's get you back to the hotel where you can rest comfortably."  
  
"Amen to that," Harm said, but then the doctor came back in.  
  
"I need a few minutes to finish up with the Commander," he said, "If you'll please wait a few minutes."  
  
"Not a problem," Mac said, maintaining her position at Harm's side.  
  
"It's just insurance information," the doctor smiled.  
  
After he had completed all the paperwork, Harm turned to Mac and Lynn, "I'll be ready in a second, so why don't you get a cab?"  
  
Mac looked as though she didn't want to leave him.  
  
"Mac, I'm just going to use the head," Harm smiled. Mac smiled back and she and Lynn left. Harm waited until they were out of sight, then he quietly asked the doctor, "Will I be able to dance tomorrow?"  
  
"Depends," he answered, "How much do you love her?" 


	13. Chap 14

0800 US Navy HQ London, England  
  
As soon as Harm, Mac and Lynn arrived at his office, Admiral Grant put Admiral Grant was interrupted and he dismissed them saying, "If you need anything, Miss O'Connor will be able to provide you with assistance."  
  
With that, Harm, Mac and Lynn headed for the conference room they were going to use as a base of operations.  
  
"Your lip looks better this morning, Lynn," Mac said.  
  
"Thanks," Lynn replied. "I took the liberty of pulling the names and personnel files of anyone I could think of who could have seen and taken the file."  
  
Harm and Mac stopped walking. They looked at each other completely surprised, and then looked at Lynn. "Mac and I tried to think of people who could have seen the file," Harm said, "We figured it would be one of five people."  
  
"The Admiral, his yeoman, the carrier, the receiver and the deliver," Lynn said.  
  
Mac's mouth hung open for a moment. Lynn had just repeated the list she had she had said the night before. "How did you figure that out?"  
  
"I went back to my office last night and I looked up the procedures for handling sensitive information," Lynn confessed, "Classified materials come into Navy HQ with the other official correspondence. The person who receives it sorts the material based on order of classification level. Anything that's labeled as 'secret' or 'classified' is sent directly to Admiral Grant's office, where the yeoman sorts it again, according to the classification level. Finally, the Admiral reads all the classified material in order of importance, and when he finishes, the yeoman files them."  
  
Mac stared at her open mouthed and Harm's eyes were wide with disbelief.  
  
"What?" Lynn asked.  
  
"Do you have a photographic memory?" Mac asked half joking.  
  
Lynn smiled shyly, "No, but I have to learn things quickly, it's part of my job."  
  
"So, our guess was right, then," Harm said and Lynn nodded. "So, let's start by talking to the guy who receives the mail."  
  
After stowing their coats and briefcases in the conference room, they walked down to the receiving desk.  
  
"Excuse me, sergeant," Mac said to the Marine on duty, "Who's in command of receiving official correspondence?"  
  
"I am, ma'am."  
  
"I need to know how many files marked 'classified' arrived here yesterday," Mac ordered.  
  
The young marine bent down and pulled a thick binder from a shelf behind the desk. "Anything that arrived yesterday is marked in the log book, ma'am," he said opened the book and found the log from the day before. "There was one 'classified file delivered yesterday."  
  
"Who delivered it?" Harm asked.  
  
"Someone from the Embassy, sir. I didn't catch her name."  
  
"What time was that?" Mac asked.  
  
"1128, ma'am."  
  
"How did it arrive?" Harm asked, "Was it separate from the other correspondence when it got to you?"  
  
"No, sir," the corporal replied, "All correspondence from the Embassy arrives together in a canvas mail bag. I separate it and send it to where it needs to be."  
  
Mac asked, "Who carried the classified file up to Admiral Grant's office?" "I did, ma'am. I was just about to go off duty, so I carried it up to the Admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer Cartwright."  
  
"Thank you, Corporal," Harm said.  
  
"If I can help with anything else, sir, just let me know."  
  
"We will, Corporal," Mac told him, "Carry on."  
  
The young man snapped to, then returned to his duties. Mac and Harm turned to Lynn, who had been standing behind them taking notes on the conversation.  
  
"You seem to disappear into the décor," Mac commented.  
  
"Thank you, Mac," Lynn replied, "That's the goal of attaches."  
  
"Lesson number one at attaché school?" Mac teased, and Lynn smiled.  
  
They began to walk back to the conference room, and as they walked Lynn said quietly, "We've narrowed it down to three."  
  
"Corporal Carlson, the yeoman, and Admiral Grant," Mac finished.  
  
"There are other's who may have access to the secure file room," Harm reminded them.  
  
"How many others?" Mac queried and looked at Lynn.  
  
"I don't know, ma'am," she answered, "But I think Petty Officer Cartwright would."  
  
Harm nodded. "Let's go."  
  
The continued up the steps and walked straight to Petty Officer Cartwright's desk, which was situated in front of the Admiral's door. As they approached, he rose to attention.  
  
"As you were, Petty Officer," Harm said and the young man sat down. "We need to know how many people have access to the secure filing room."  
  
"Sir, Admiral Grant and myself are the only people who know the code to the padlock," he replied crisply, but looking somewhat confused.  
  
"What's going on out here?" the Admiral boomed from behind them.  
  
Harm and Mac went rigid as they stood at attention, but the admiral waved them off a moment later.  
  
"Sir, we're just trying to figure it out," Mac said.  
  
"I see," he replied grumpily, then he addressed Petty Officer Cartwright in a softer voice, "File this, son."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir," he replied as the Admiral disappeared back into his office.  
  
Harm saw that the file was marked 'classified' and he signaled Mac with his eyes. She nodded and then walked toward the other side of the room. Lynn caught the drift of their silent conversation and left for another corner. Harm addressed the young man, "Thank you, Petty Officer, carry on."  
  
"Aye, sir," he said and then walked over to a door with a keypad lock. Harm watched after him from a position that was roughly between Mac's and Lynn's. They could all clearly see the number as Petty Officer Cartwright punched them into the keypad. When they regrouped, Mac said, "5-4-5-4-8?"  
  
"We're back to square one," Harm said. 


	14. Chap 15

"Well, there are only eight or nine people in this office," Lynn said.  
  
"Assuming that the same eight or nine are here every day," Mac said, but then her eyes widened, "And assuming that the code doesn't change."  
  
When the Petty Officer returned, Harm asked. "Does the code to the secure file room stay the same?"  
  
The Petty Officer still looked confused, but more skeptical. He finally said, "It's changed on the first of every month, sir."  
  
"Thank you, Petty Officer, carry on." Harm walked back over to Mac and Lynn, who were waiting where he had left them. "It changes monthly."  
  
"Then we need a duty roster for everyone who has worked in this office since the first," Mac said with sigh and Harm nodded in agreement.  
  
"I'll go get a duty roster from Corporal Carlson and meet you back in the conference room," Lynn offered.  
  
"I'll grab you a cup of coffee," Mac said as they all walked down the steps together.  
  
After they had separated, and the two officers were alone in the conference room, Harm turned to Mac. "I still get a creepy feeling about Miss O'Connor, Mac."  
  
"Why?" Mac asked, "I'm usually the one with 'creepy feelings', and I think she's fine."  
  
"It's more than that. She seemed to know exactly what we were thinking this morning, and how did could she know all that she does?"  
  
Mac shook her head, "I though she explained herself very well."  
  
"And how do you explain that she was in the hallway at just the right time to 'bump' into whoever it was last night?"  
  
"Are you suggesting that she's the leak?"  
  
Harm made a face that said, 'well, yeah'.  
  
"Harm, I trust her," Mac waved him off, "I think you're trying to make something out of nothing."  
  
"It's a woman thing isn't it?" Harm asked a little hurt that Mac wouldn't even consider his theory.  
  
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Mac replied.  
  
"Come on, Mac. There's a weird set of circumstances around her," Harm explained, "She was going to the head alone."  
  
"Like many other women," Mac interjected.  
  
"She didn't come back with you."  
  
"She had to fix her hair," Mac explained.  
  
Harm shook his head and went on, "She and the leak were the only two people in the hall and she claims to have bumped into him, but not seen his face."  
  
"You were wrestling with him and you didn't see his face," Mac defended.  
  
"She said she reviewed the procedures for handling classified materials, but where did she get that information? How was she able to identify the same five people that we did?"  
  
"She probably read it at the Embassy, where her office is. And she's been working here for a long time; it's understandable that she'd know some of the people and procedures. Furthermore, our theory wasn't too developed, and it is plausible that she could have had the same one."  
  
Harm understood that even though he knew Mac's explanations weren't entirely convincing, he also knew that she wasn't going to budge. "I'm just saying that she doesn't feel right," he said.  
  
Just then Lynn returned carrying a sheet of paper. She was immediately aware of the tension in the room. Mac and Harm stood at opposite ends of the table, Mac looking agitated and Harm looking cross and pained.  
  
"Here's the duty roster."  
  
"Thank you, Lynn," Mac said, throwing an icy glance at Harm, "Let's get to it, shall we?"  
  
"Well, the Corporal said that everyone on that list was also working yesterday," Lynn said trying to sound upbeat, but she looked questioningly from Mac to Harm, "Which means, we only have those eight people who work up there to go through."  
  
"Well, let's start going over them," Mac said, "Harm, you and I can start interviewing them this afternoon, and we'll see if we can't nail it down."  
  
Harm nodded coldly.  
  
"We have to be finished by 1700 so we can all get ready for the ball tonight," Lynn reminded them.  
  
Harm's head snapped up and Mac looked at her in disbelief. "I think national security takes precedence over a ball," Harm said, the chill still in his voice.  
  
"I would agree, sir," Lynn said a little taken aback, "Except if you don't go to the ball tonight the press will notice and then you're original mission will be a failure."  
  
Mac had to agree with Lynn, even if she really didn't like the idea. "She's right, Harm. We can't forget our original objective."  
  
Harm finally nodded sourly in submission. "Well, we can at least try to get through as many of these as we can."  
  
  
  
  
  
Five hours and four extra strength Tylenol later, at 1730, Harm, Mac, and Lynn had completed seven interviews, and had determined that either all of the people they had interviewed were either not involved or they were exceptional liars. None of them had ever noticed Petty Officer Cartwright putting the code into the keypad, and none of them ever filed classified information. They occasionally used the files in their work, but they received the files from Cartwright and gave them back to him.  
  
"I can't believe this," Harm said, "We're no closer than we were at the beginning."  
  
"We even have more suspects," Lynn said glumly, "Admiral Grant, Petty Officer Cartwright, Corporal Carlson, and the only person we didn't interview- Lieutenant Penn."  
  
"Like I said, we're no closer," Harm repeated, his voice more tired and short.  
  
"We need to get going," Mac said, ignoring Harm's attitude, "It's 1732 and we'll be late getting to the ball if we don't get out of here."  
  
Lynn stared at her. "How do you do that?" she asked genuinely surprised.  
  
Mac smiled, and repeated the same words in Farsi she had said to Harm years ago, but she was shocked when Lynn's eyes widened and she replied, "Oh, that's amazing."  
  
"You speak Farsi?" Mac asked disbelieving.  
  
"Yeah. My father was a diplomat in Iran, and I picked up while I was here with him," she explained.  
  
Harm made a sound that was between a grunt and an exasperated sigh, and he skulked out of the room.  
  
Lynn raised her eyebrows and looked uncertainly at Mac. Harm's cold and unfriendly attitude over the last few hours had apparently baffled her. Mac gave her a weak smiled and tried to waive her off assuringly. They collected the papers that lay strewn across the desk, along with the many Styrofoam coffee cups. Lynn put the papers into several manila folders and placed them in her briefcase. Together, they walked out of the conference room and down to the ground floor, where they caught up with Harm. When they stepped outside, it was snowing. Big, heavy white snowflakes drifted down from the sky and seemed to float around them.  
  
"It's beautiful," Mac whispered.  
  
All Harm could do was nod. He knew that he had been a jerk all afternoon, and that Mac was still angry with him. But the snow seemed to clear his mind and cool his temperament. He looked at Mac, the cold air had made her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkle. She breathtaking.  
  
"See, it doesn't rain here all the time," Lynn remarked lightly, as she saw the look on Harm's face. Mac smiled at her, but Harm's wary look returned.  
  
Fifteen minutes later they were headed up to Harm and Mac's rooms where they would dress for the ball, at which point Harm left Mac and Lynn to change on their own. Mac slipped out of her uniform, but before she slipped into her gown, she threw on a robe and let Lynn style her hair. Lynn pulled it up as she had done the night before, but this time she curled the ends under to create a subtle elegance. Mac looked at herself in the mirror and hardly recognized herself. She had always gelled her hair on formal occasions because it never did what she wanted it to when she needed it to. Mac watched Lynn do her own hair for a moment, but soon disappeared to change into her dress.  
  
"Lynn, are you really an attache?"  
  
Lynn, who had also changed and finished her hair and turned to face Mac. "Of course," she answered, looking bewildered. Mac regretted asking, but she went on.  
  
"How did you get the information about handling classified materials?"  
  
Lynn continued to look unsure, but answered, "There's a binder at the Embassy about how to handle them, I took it from the reference library there and read it. Have I done something wrong?"  
  
"No, no. Not at all," Mac answered quickly, "It's just a little strange that you know so much about it."  
  
"I understand, ma'am," Lynn said, formality creeping back into her voice, "You think that I'm a suspect."  
  
Mac looked crushed. Harm, who had entered to room unnoticed, was standing behind Lynn, looking at Mac. He felt his chest ache, not from his ribs, but from his heart. Mac stood before him dressed in her finery, looking more beautiful that he had ever seen her, accusing a woman she had so faithfully defended only hours before.  
  
"No, Lynn," he said, and both woman turned surprised faces to him, "I suspected that there was more to you than you were telling us. Mac was just going on my suspicions."  
  
Lynn looked confused and a little hurt. "Commander, I have been working with the Admiral and his staff for a long time now, and."  
  
"And it's only natural that you have broad understanding of how things work there," Harm finished, truly believing what he was saying. He trusted Mac's gut. "I don't know how to apologize for suspecting you. If I blame it on the pain meds will you forgive me?"  
  
Lynn glanced at Mac, who smiled at her. "Yes," she said, and the tension that had filled their day finally faded between the three of them.  
  
"I can't blame it on anything," Mac said, "But I can apologize. Forgive?"  
  
"Of course, Mac," Lynn answered and hugged her, "You can blame Harm."  
  
And they all laughed. Lynn went to gather their coats and handbags while Mac stepped forward to straighten Harm's already perfectly positioned ribbons. They didn't say anything to each other because they both knew that whatever had passed between them that afternoon was gone now. All that remained was the newly declared affection between them. Their eyes spoke every word that they didn't need to say.  
  
Lynn watched them from near the door and knew that they had forgotten that she was still there. She smiled, and though she hated to end the moment, she cleared her throat quietly. Harm and Mac jolted out of their dreamlike state and looked sheepishly at her.  
  
Lynn smiled back at them, "As long as it stays here."  
  
Harm smiled, but looked like a teenager who'd just been busted. Mac grinned and nodded.  
  
"We've got to get going if you want to eat before we pick up the Admiral" Lynn said, tying the sash to her off-white formal jacket. Mac put on the faux fur wrap, Harm threw on his coat and cover, and they all walked to the elevator, through the lobby to the little restaurant they had eaten in on their first night. The other diners frequently threw looks their way, but the small, finely dressed group didn't notice. After a quick meal, they crossed the lobby again, wished the doormen a pleasant evening, and stepped outside and into the waiting limousine. They drove first to the officer's quarters to collect the Admiral, and then there were off to the ball. 


	15. Chap 16

"Well, there are only eight or nine people in this office," Lynn said, trying to sound optimistic.  
  
"Assuming that the same eight or nine are here every day," Mac said, but then her eyes widened, "And assuming that the code doesn't change."  
  
When the Petty Officer returned, Harm asked. "Does the code to the secure file room stay the same?"  
  
The Petty Officer still looked confused, but more skeptical. He finally said, "It's changed on the first of every month, sir."  
  
"Thank you, Petty Officer, carry on." Harm walked back over to Mac and Lynn, who were waiting where he had left them. "It changes monthly."  
  
"Then we need a duty roster for everyone who has worked in this office since the first," Mac said with sigh and Harm nodded in agreement.  
  
"I'll go get a duty roster from Corporal Carlson and meet you back in the conference room," Lynn offered.  
  
"I'll grab you a cup of coffee," Mac said as they all walked down the steps together.  
  
After they had separated, and the two officers were alone in the conference room, Harm turned to Mac. "I still get a creepy feeling about Miss O'Connor, Mac."  
  
"Why?" Mac asked, "I'm usually the one with 'creepy feelings', and I think she's fine."  
  
"It's more than that. She seemed to know exactly what we were thinking this morning, and how did could she know all that she does?"  
  
Mac shook her head, "I though she explained herself very well."  
  
"And how do you explain that she was in the hallway at just the right time to 'bump' into whoever it was last night?"  
  
"Are you suggesting that she's the leak?"  
  
Harm made a face that said, 'well, yeah'.  
  
"Harm, I trust her," Mac waved him off, "I think you're trying to make something out of nothing."  
  
"It's a woman thing isn't it?" Harm asked a little hurt that Mac wouldn't even consider his theory.  
  
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Mac replied.  
  
"Come on, Mac. There's a weird set of circumstances around her," Harm explained, "She was going to the head alone."  
  
"Like many other women," Mac interjected.  
  
"She didn't come back with you."  
  
"She had to fix her hair," Mac explained.  
  
Harm shook his head and went on, "She and the leak were the only two people in the hall and she claims to have bumped into him, but not seen his face."  
  
"You were wrestling with him and you didn't see his face," Mac defended.  
  
"She said she reviewed the procedures for handling classified materials, but where did she get that information? How was she able to identify the same five people that we did?"  
  
"She probably read it at the Embassy, where her office is. And she's been working here for a long time; it's understandable that she'd know some of the people and procedures. Furthermore, our theory wasn't too developed, and it is plausible that she could have had the same one."  
  
Harm understood that even though he knew Mac's explanations weren't entirely convincing, he also knew that she wasn't going to budge. "I'm just saying that she doesn't feel right," he said.  
  
Just then Lynn returned carrying a sheet of paper. She was immediately aware of the tension in the room. Mac and Harm stood at opposite ends of the table, Mac looking agitated and Harm looking cross and pained.  
  
"Here's the duty roster."  
  
"Thank you, Lynn," Mac said, throwing an icy glance at Harm, "Let's get to it, shall we?"  
  
"Well, the Corporal said that everyone on that list was also working yesterday," Lynn said trying to sound upbeat, but she looked questioningly from Mac to Harm, "Which means, we only have those eight people who work up there to go through."  
  
"Well, let's start going over them," Mac said, "Harm, you and I can start interviewing them this afternoon, and we'll see if we can't nail it down."  
  
Harm nodded coldly.  
  
"We have to be finished by 1700 so we can all get ready for the ball tonight," Lynn reminded them.  
  
Harm's head snapped up and Mac looked at her in disbelief. "I think national security takes precedence over a ball," Harm said, the chill still in his voice.  
  
"I would agree, sir," Lynn said a little taken aback, "Except if you don't go to the ball tonight the press will notice and then you're original mission will be a failure."  
  
Mac had to agree with Lynn, even if she really didn't like the idea. "She's right, Harm. We can't forget our original objective."  
  
Harm finally nodded sourly in submission. "Well, we can at least try to get through as many of these as we can." 


	16. Chap 18

2000 Local Christmas Ball London, England  
  
They had entered as they had entered the opera the night before, Mac on Admiral Grant's arm, and Harm following behind them with Lynn. And, just like last night, the press lined the red carpet entrance, but tonight there seemed to be many more. As they walked up the carpet and then the marble staircase, Mac began to see the large crowd that had already gathered inside. The building itself was dressed in pine boughs and red ribbons. In every window a single candle glowed brightly. Despite the events of the day and the press taking pictures all around her, Mac began to feel the Christmas spirit. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Harm. He smiled broadly back at her, knowing that they were feeling the same thing.  
  
When they entered the building they were escorted into the ballroom. After they had given their coat and wraps to the coat check attendants, the Admiral led them to an empty table. Their group was already drawing a lot of attention. The Admiral and Harm both cut dashing figures in their dress blues. Both men looked tall, strong, and handsome, and Mac shot dangerously sharp looks at any woman who looked at Harm too long. But it was she, herself, who was drawing the most attention.  
  
Harm found himself scaring away eager young suitors who showed too much interest in his Sarah. She looked like she had just stepped out of a painting. She was exquisite, and everyone around her could feel her radiance. She smiled brightly and the warmth of the room flushed her cheeks, giving her a beauty that none of the other women in the room could match, at least not in Harm's eyes.  
  
Mac was obliged to give the first dance to Admiral Grant as a matter of formality, but she mentally frowned through the whole thing and kept an eye out for Harm. She thought for a moment that he would be dancing with some young blonde in typical Harm fashion, which made her smile to herself. But soon she saw him sitting, at the table the Admiral had led them to. After the dance was over, she gave a small nod to the Admiral and walked to the refreshment table. Harm joined her a moment later.  
  
"If you ever need to find a marine, just look for food," he quipped.  
  
"And if you ever have to find a sailor, look for the nearest bar," she jibed in return. They both smiled.  
  
"Have you seen Lynn since we got here?" Mac asked.  
  
"No, some guy asked her dance as soon as she put her things down."  
  
"Can you see her?" Mac asked him. Harm, who could easily see over most of the people in ballroom, scanned the dance floor. Lynn's mint dress and contrasting, long wavy hair was clearly visible through the many partners.  
  
"She fell prey to the Admiral," Harm told her.  
  
"Oh, no," Mac said, genuinely commiserating with her friend, "Harm, go rescue her."  
  
Harm nodded and walked out onto the dance floor. "May I cut in, sir?"  
  
The Admiral's eyes narrowed more than usual, but through his thin lips he said, "Of course, Commander. Miss O'Connor, please excuse me." He seemed to emphasize Harm's rank, but Harm replied smoothly, "Thank you, sir."  
  
Lynn danced into Harm's open arm and looking very grateful, "Thank you very much."  
  
"Not a problem," Harm replied smiling, "Once around and we'll get something to drink. I think Mac wants to talk to you."  
  
"Yes, of course," Lynn said, understanding that Harm's ribs probably weren't up to the dancing.  
  
"Thank you for being so helpful through all of this," Harm said awkwardly, "And thank you, for forgiving Mac."  
  
Lynn looked him straight into his eyes, and said as lightly as she could, "I forgive you too, Harm. I understand why you would suspect me."  
  
Harm look a little uncomfortable, and he said, "I really am sorry. I should have trusted Mac about you."  
  
"She was acting on her trust in you. You two must be one hell of a team."  
  
At that Harm smiled, "It's been great working with you."  
  
"The pleasure has been all mi." but Lynn didn't finish. Her face contorted in confusion, and she leaned around Harm's shoulder to look at something behind him. Then, she turned her eyes back to Harm, and said distractedly, "I'm sorry, Commander, I thought I saw someone I haven't seen in a long time."  
  
He smiled. "Must have been someone important."  
  
"Thank you for the dance, sir, but will you please excuse me?" Lynn said as she made a small curtsy. Harm bowed out politely, and returned to the table, where he found Mac sitting.  
  
"Sorry," he shrugged when he had reached the table.  
  
"Where did she run off to?" Mac, who had been watching them, said.  
  
"She thought she saw someone she knew," Harm replied. "So, how's the food?"  
  
"Not too bad."  
  
"Hey, anything beats ship's chow," Harm returned. "You were right about her."  
  
Mac smiled and nodded smugly.  
  
"Thanks for not saying 'I told you so'."  
  
"I don't need to," she said, her smile widening. He smiled back. Anyone looking at them at that moment would have thought they looked like two giddy teenagers. Their faces mellowed and they looked at each other for moment, just soaking up the night, and all its beauty.  
  
"This is amazing," Harm said, never taking his gaze off Mac. She sat there before him in the most remarkable dress he had ever seen, her hair done up and eyes shining with mirth. "Sarah, you look. well, gorgeous."  
  
"Trying to make up for yesterday at Phillipe's?" she teased, but her smile said she was genuinely grateful for the compliment.  
  
"You're welcome," he said reading her expression. "Would you like dance?  
  
"Only if you're up to it" Mac answered, suddenly concerned about Harm's bruised ribs.  
  
"These ribs won't keep me from dancing with you tonight."  
  
Mac held out her hand and Harm led her out onto the dance floor. They spun around a few times before Harm said, "How come you never danced this well at the NATO Ball, Marine?"  
  
She smiled sweetly back at him. "You've just never noticed."  
  
Harm shook his head, "I've been watching you for six years and I would have noticed."  
  
Mac didn't know what to say so she just smiled. She was keenly aware of Harm's hand on the small of her back, and the pulse in his neck that she felt under her hand. She gazed into his eyes, two deep oceans. She broke the stare and looked away frowning.  
  
"What's wrong Mac?" Harm asked worried that he might have done something wrong, again.  
  
"I can't believe I almost lost you," she answered looking back at him.  
  
"You'll never lose me, Sarah." Harm pulled her closer to him, and they continued to dance. After two songs, they finally returned to the table.  
  
At that moment, the Admiral reappeared at the table, looking sourer than ever. "Where is Miss O'Connor?" he snapped.  
  
"She's looking for an old friend, sir," Harm answered.  
  
"When she gets back, make sure she stays here."  
  
"Yes, sir," they both replied and the Admiral strode off angrily.  
  
When he was far enough away not to hear him, Harm turned to Mac, "Was he like that while you were dancing?"  
  
"Yeah. He's been like that since we got here, though. You know Lynn has been gone for a long time."  
  
"She's probably catching up with her friend or circulating," Harm assured her, "Care to dance again?"  
  
"I think I could handle that."  
  
They danced the next three dances together, talking happily about Christmas. "What are your plans?" Mac asked.  
  
"My mother and Frank are going to meet me at my Grandmother's farm," he replied. "We haven't seen each other in a long time, so we decided to get together. And you, what are your plans?"  
  
"Dinner with Chloe and her dad, and then Christmas service."  
  
"What about your Uncle Matt?"  
  
"He's deployed in Afghanistan," Mac said sadly, "I'll get a call from him on Christmas morning and we'll talk for a few minutes."  
  
"Sarah, if you'd like to, I'd like you to come to my Grandmother's with me," Harm said.  
  
Mac wasn't sure what to say. "Harm, I."  
  
"You can only refuse if it interferes with having dinner with Chloe," Harm smilingly informed her, "Dinner is on the 24th, then there's the Midnight Mass, and Christmas brunch."  
  
"My dinner with Chloe is on the 23rd," Mac said softly.  
  
"Then you'll come?" Harm questioned.  
  
Mac smiled and nodded, "Yes, and thank you for asking me."  
  
"You're more than welcome. Grandma Sarah has three extra bedrooms, so you can stay there with us. And, you'll get to try Grams' Christmas Quiche," he grinned at the memory.  
  
"That good, huh?"  
  
"Mmm, you have no idea."  
  
Mac laughed, and the music ended. Everyone on the dance floor turned and applauded the string ensemble. Harm put Mac's hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her back to the table. As she sat down, she pulled a white handkerchief, which was hemmed in red thread and bore her initials 'SM', out of her little handbag. She dabbed lightly at her face and then replaced the handkerchief.  
  
"Would you like anything to drink?" Harm asked nodding toward the bar.  
  
"Yeah, could you get me a sparkling cider?"  
  
"I'll be right back," Harm said and he winked at her before heading over to the bar.  
  
Mac watched him go, smiling. He was probably the most handsome person at the ball, and in his uniform he appeared to be superior to everyone else. Over the last few days, he had admitted his love for her, and, now, he had asked her to spend Christmas with him and his family. It all seemed to happen too quickly, but then again, it had only taken them six years to get to this point. Mac smiled as some of the memories of how she and Harm had fought, made up, and grown as friends flashed in her mind. But suddenly, they faded away as a familiar feeling of dread washed over her and she knew something was wrong. 


	17. Chap 19

Harm was walking back from the bar when he saw Mac's expression change from happy reverie to alarm. Mac leaned forward and clutched the table for support. When he reached her, Harm heard her sharp intake of breath.  
  
"Mac, what's wrong?" he asked anxiously.  
  
"I don't know exactly," she said breathed, her eyes closed.  
  
"A vision?" Harm asked.  
  
She nodded, "I need a minute to figure it out." For a moment longer she sat rigidly with her eyes closed tightly, then, suddenly, she looked up and searched the room. She stood and continued to look around frantically.  
  
"Come on." Mac beseeched him as she tore off across the room.  
  
"Mac, wait!" he called.  
  
People turned to stare after her, as she ran onto the dance floor, and darted around the couples, Harm following close behind her. Guests jumped aside as they rushed past. When she reached the door, Mac looked to the left, but then she bolted to the right. Harm followed a few paces behind her so he could turn the corners without crashing to a halt. They seemed to race through a honeycomb of corridors and alcoves. They ran for only a few minutes but they had made more turns than Harm could count. Finally, Mac stopped. Breathing heavily, she said, "She's here somewhere."  
  
"Who?" Harm asked between breaths. "Lynn?"  
  
Mac nodded. Her chest heaved with each breath she took.  
  
Then, there came a muffled cry.  
  
Harm's eyes widened and he ran toward the sound. Mac hurried after him. They ran down another corridor, and turned again, and at the end of this dimly lit corridor they saw a woman using one arm to hold a man's hand above their heads. The woman's dark flowing hair over her light dress identified her. Mac had just started toward the couple, when she saw the glint of a knife in the man's hand.  
  
"Lynn!" Mac shouted as she began to run toward her.  
  
"Mac, no!" Lynn called back frantically.  
  
In the moment she had been distracted, the man had gotten the advantage over Lynn, and he spun her around and pinning her arm behind her. Harm and Mac could see that a dark red stain was spreading from her left shoulder. The man behind her reached around her; he thrust the gleaming blade into her belly and pulled it out cruelly.  
  
Lynn gasped and fell to her knees, a look of pain and surprise warped her face.  
  
"No!" Mac shouted, as she saw Lynn fall onto her side and the man turn and flee.  
  
She and Harm reached Lynn's side only a few seconds later and knelt beside her. She was badly wounded; blood seemed to blossom over her belly and shoulder. Harm immediately took off his coat and used it to apply pressure to the belly-wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding.  
  
"Ah," she gasped, and her face twisted still tighter.  
  
"It's okay, Lynn," he said, trying to sound calm, "You'll be alright."  
  
"No, you've got to." she tried to warn him off.  
  
"Shh," Mac said as she tore fabric from her dress and pressed it to the wound in Lynn's shoulder, "It'll be okay."  
  
Lynn's breath came in short shallow gasps. "Clay. Penn" she rasped, "Carl." She started to fade; her eyes rolled and then shut.  
  
"No, Lynn, stay with us," Harm said cried, "Mac, go for help."  
  
Mac shook her head.  
  
"One of us has to. Now, go!"  
  
Mac was torn; she gave Lynn another desperate look, and then she sprinted back down the corridor and disappeared around the corner. Harm watched after her for a moment, but the he turned his attention back to Lynn.  
  
"Lynn, wake up. Come back," he ordered harshly, but she didn't respond. He lowered his cheek to feel her breath. She wasn't breathing.  
  
"Damn it," he said as he adjusted her neck. He leaned down and gave her two breaths. He tipped his head to the side again, and still she wasn't breathing. He felt for her pulse, and he found it, weak but at least her heart was still beating. "Good, now breathe, damn it." He gave her two more breaths. And waited. She took a breath; it was ragged and shallow, but she was breathing on her own. Harm continued to apply pressure to her wounds, but the blood from her belly wound had already soaked his jacket.  
  
"Hurry, Mac," he whispered.  
  
A few moments later, Mac returned with the paramedics and a gurney. The paramedics fell to work on Lynn. One put an IV into her arm, while another cut through her dress and worked over her wounds. They loaded her onto the gurney, and as they were rushing her down the corridor the paramedic holding the IV bag, put a mask over her face and squeezed the plastic bag attached to it. Mac led them back through the maze corridors. As they ran, Harm explained to a paramedic that Lynn had been attacked and that he and Mac needed to go with her in order to protect her.  
  
"I can't allow you into the ambulance," the paramedic told him curtly.  
  
"Look, this is a matter of national security, British and American!" Harm exclaimed angrily.  
  
The paramedic looked extremely put out. "Fine, but stay out of the way."  
  
Finally, they dashed out a side door to where the ambulance was waiting in an alley. The paramedics loaded Lynn into the bay of the ambulance and pulled Harm and Mac in as well.  
  
As the doors slammed and the ambulance flared its lights and rang its sirens, the paramedics worked feverishly over Lynn. They injected her with something and did everything they could to stop the bleeding. The short drive to the hospital seemed to take hours for Harm and Mac who sat still and silent, clutching the other's hand in support. 


	18. Chap 20

When they arrived at the hospital, the paramedics pushed Lynn into the emergency room, and Harm and Mac were sent to the waiting room. They sat dumbly for a few minutes, just letting the past hour's events soak in. Harm stood and paced, Mac walked to the window and gazed out of it. The snow that had been falling so beautifully before had turned into a pouring rain.  
  
"Mac," Harm said softly as he touched her shoulder, "I'm going to call the Embassy, get them to bring over our things from the hotel."  
  
Mac nodded. "I'll call Admiral Chegwidden and check in."  
  
"Mac, it's 0500 in Washington."  
  
"He'll be up."  
  
They both made their respective phone calls from the nurse's station, however, Mac's was far more interesting then Harm's.  
  
"Admiral Chegwidden," a gruff voice answered.  
  
"Good morning, sir," Mac said heavily.  
  
The Admiral caught her tone and knew at once that something was wrong. "Mac, what happened?"  
  
"Miss O'Connor was attacked at the Christmas Ball, sir," Mac explained, "Harm, a, Commander Rabb and I just arrived at the ER with her."  
  
"Is she alright?"  
  
"She has been stabbed twice; once in the shoulder and once in the belly, sir. We're waiting for any news."  
  
"Do you think this is connected to the investigation?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The Admiral sighed. "Alright, keep me informed."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"And, Mac, take care of yourselves."  
  
"Yes, sir." And they both hung up. Harm was standing beside her, waiting to hear what the Admiral had said. "He just said to keep him informed and to take care of ourselves," Mac told him. Harm nodded and he led Mac over to the uncomfortable plastic chairs to wait.  
  
"What did they say at the Embassy?"  
  
"Wanted to know what was going on, why we needed our things," Harm said, "But I didn't tell them."  
  
"Why not?" Mac asked confused.  
  
"I don't know if it's safe," Harm answered.  
  
They sat together in silence then. There was nothing they could do but wait and see. About twenty minutes later, a tired looking doctor came out to them.  
  
"Are here for the woman from the Christmas Ball?" he asked them, even though he knew they were by the formal attire they were still wearing.  
  
"Yes," Harm answered, "How is she?"  
  
"She arrested for moment, but we were able to bring her back and get her stabilized," he told them, "She's on the way to surgery now."  
  
"Is she going to make it?" Mac asked.  
  
The doctor shook his head sympathetically, "It's too early to tell. She lost a lot of blood and there's a lot of damage."  
  
Mac swallowed hard and took a deep breath, waiting for the doctor to say that she'd have a close shave but would pull through. He didn't say it, though.  
  
"There's a waiting room up in the surgical unit. I'll have a nurse escort you up."  
  
Harm nodded. "Thank you, doctor."  
  
The doctor nodded and walked back through the doors into the ER. A young nurse came out a minute later and escorted Harm and Mac up to he surgical waiting room.  
  
"Can I get you anything?" the young woman asked, kindly, "Tea?"  
  
"No, but thank you," Harm said. The nurse gave him a sympathetic smile and left. Harm slid down into a chair and Mac plopped down next to him, leaning her head onto his shoulder.  
  
"She'll be alright, Mac."  
  
Mac nodded slightly, but tears had formed in her eyes.  
  
"If you hadn't had that. that vision, she would be dead now," Harm tried to reassure her.  
  
"I wasn't fast enough," Mac said angrily as she sat up, "If I'd been sooner."  
  
"Mac, you did everything you could do," Harm said, "There's nothing else we could have done."  
  
"Harm, she's probably going to die because I couldn't figure out that vision fast enough."  
  
"No, Mac. You saved her, like you saved me."  
  
Mac's face contorted and a pair of fat tears slipped down her cheeks. Harm stepped toward her and gathered her into his arms. "It's okay, Sarah," he soothed, "It's okay." They stood together for a few minutes, and then Mac sniffled, and nodded up to Harm.  
  
"Thanks. I'll be alright."  
  
Harm nodded back to her, squeezed her tightly and then let her go. They turned around to retake their seats, when they saw a man in a dark business suit standing behind them.  
  
"Rabb, Mac," he said.  
  
Harm scrutinized the man, but he finally said, a little suspiciously, "Webb." 


	19. Chap 21

"How is she?" Webb asked.  
  
Mac, who had been staring, somewhat shocked, shook her head and said, "We don't know. They got her stabilized, and she's in surgery, but other than that we don't know."  
  
Webb nodded. Harm noticed then that Webb's usually neat appearance was disheveled. His suit was wrinkled and his tie loose, his hair was unkempt and he looked distressed. It was the look of distress that was most out of place on the CIA Agent, a man who rarely showed any feeling at all.  
  
"Webb, what are you doing here?" Harm asked.  
  
Webb didn't answer, instead he asked, "Did she say anything?"  
  
Mac, taken still more aback, stared at him, then shook her head. "She seemed worried that the attacker might come back."  
  
Webb looked to Harm. "Did she say anything?"  
  
"She said 'Claypan, Carl'," Harm answered, "But what are you doing here?"  
  
"Claypan, Carl. Does that mean anything to you?" Webb went on, ignoring Harm's question.  
  
"Doesn't ring any bells," Harm answered, and Mac shook her head. Webb looked lost for what to do next.  
  
"Clay, what's going on?" Mac asked softly.  
  
Webb looked from her to Harm. He seemed to be deciding what he could tell them. He opened his mouth to say something but Harm cut him off.  
  
"Clay, Penn, Carl," he said.  
  
"What?" Webb and Mac said together.  
  
Harm nodded, not looking at them, but at the floor. He was turning the thought over in his head. "She didn't say 'Claypan, Carl'. She said each syllable separately. I assumed she meant a single name, but Mac, when you said 'Clay'."  
  
"She was saying three different names," Mac finished when the idea occurred to here too, "'Clay', 'Penn', and 'Carl'." Mac looked directly at Webb, who looked back at her with is face in an impenetrable mask.  
  
"Lieutenant Penn," Harm said, "He was the only one we didn't get a chance to interview today."  
  
"But who's Carl?" Mac asked.  
  
Harm thought for a moment, "I don't remember anyone named 'Carl' on the duty roster."  
  
There was a pause. "What if she didn't finish the name?" Mac said, "It could be 'Carlson'."  
  
Harm nodded in agreement, "Corporal Carlson."  
  
"That's it." Mac said, then she and Harm both turned to Webb. "Why would she say your name?" Mac asked seriously.  
  
Webb stared back at them. "I'll explain later," he said, "We need to focus on getting Penn and Carlson. They still have access to those files."  
  
"Then, that's probably where they are," Harm said, "The Admiral's Staff office. One of them saw us, and probably knows we're onto them."  
  
"I've already got a team together" Clay said, "I assume that you'll want to join us." 


	20. Chap 22

2330 Local Outside Navy HQ London, England  
  
Webb gave Harm and Mac black pants and jackets, and they changed as Webb drove them to meet the CIA response team. When they rendezvoused, Webb and the two officers transferred into a waiting van, and they with the team drove to an alley near the Navy HQ building. Headsets and Kevlar vests were distributed among the party. Mac strapped the vest around her and then holstered the side arm she had been given. Harm adjusted his headset.  
  
"You know the drill- alive, if possible. You two," Webb said indicating the two officers, "Stick to me. Tompkins, Ramirez- you've got the roof. Campbell, Harrison- back up. Lee, Jackson and Mitchell- follow me in."  
  
There were nods all around the assembly of men and women.  
  
"Move out."  
  
Webb, Harm and Mac, approached the entrance silently. Webb looked back at Harm. They made eye contact and each man nodded. Harm covered the door as Webb pushed it open. Webb crossed the threshold into the first floor lobby and the rest of the group followed slowly in, each person covering for the person ahead of him. When they were all in, each person walked cautiously to forward, looking all around them for signs of Penn and Carlson.  
  
"Move on," Webb's voice said over the headsets, "Third floor. Stay Alert."  
  
The group slowly made it's way to the stairs. Everyone placed their feet silently on the steps, eyes upon the person in front of him. Again, Webb led with Harm behind him, Mac following only a step behind. When they finally reached the third floor the lights in the office were out, all except for one. The door to secure filing room stood slightly ajar and light streamed from behind it.  
  
Webb held up a closed fist and the entire group halted. Then, he pointed two fingers in the direction of the filing room. A man at the back of the group strode forward, followed by a woman. The woman made ready to push the door open, as the man held his gun poised. The rest of the group took up positions, their weapons aimed at the door. At another signal from Webb, the woman pushed open the door.  
  
Light filled the office, and the man who had been poised to enter the room first called from within it, "Clear."  
  
Then shot rang out from behind them, followed by more rapid fire.  
  
"Shit," a man's voice muttered.  
  
"Take cover," Mac yelled over the sound of gunfire and each person dove for the nearest desk or file cabinet.  
  
"We've got to find an exit," Harm called to Webb, forgetting about his headset.  
  
"They're shooting at us from the only one," he yelled back.  
  
"Damn it," Harm curse as he ducked lower, a bullet just missing his ear. He looked around to see where Mac had taken refuge. She was on one knee behind a metal file cabinet a few desks behind him. At least she's safe, he thought. She caught his eye, and tipped her head toward the door. Harm gave her a questioning look.  
  
"It's Penn," he saw her form the words and heard them over his headset. He nodded, and she nodded in return. Mac took a deep breath and then raised her gun, and stepped around the file cabinet and took a shot at Penn. The bullet hit the wall behind him, missing him by a hair. But then, the gunfire ceased, as abruptly as it had started. The group warily stood up and looked around them. Every piece of furniture was dotted with bullet holes. Remarkably, no one was injured.  
  
"Move out," Webb ordered as he dashed out of the office. Harm followed him a split second later.  
  
Almost everyone was out when the crash of breaking glass shattered the silence. The three agents and Mac, who were still inside the staff office, looked around, their eyes alert and wide. Mac saw, behind a desk, a broken window. She searched the floor quickly, and she saw it, lying there next to the desk.  
  
"Grenade!" Mac yelled, as she turned to get away, "Take."  
  
The three agents had barley made it out of the room, but Mac was still a few paces from the door, when the grenade exploded sending shards of broken glass and wood shooting all over the room. 


	21. Chap 23

Harm, who had heard Mac's warning through his headset, tried to rush back to her, but Webb grabbed his arm and pulled him on up the stairs in pursuit of Lt. Penn. Harm's face contorted in fear. "Mac!" he yelled, but here was no answer. "Sarah, answer me!" Still there was no answer.  
  
"I'm going back for her," he shouted to Webb.  
  
"No, we've got to stop that bastard!" Webb replied, shoving Harm up the stairs.  
  
Harm looked furious, "Mac, please, say something!" When there was no answer, Harm let out a grieved cry and bounded up the stairs two at a time, Webb close at his heels. They reached the door to the roof quickly. They both glanced around, and Harm saw that Lt. Penn was only a few paces from the edge of the roof.  
  
"Stop!" Harm yelled, his voice straining with almost uncontrollable anger, "Stop or I'll shoot!" He held his gun still, looking at Penn's back. Penn stopped, and raised both his arms.  
  
"I'm unarmed," he called back to Harm.  
  
"Get down on the ground," Webb ordered, "Now!"  
  
Penn turned to face Harm, whose face was now contorted in fury, but he made no move to get down on the ground. "Commander," he said.  
  
"I said 'get down'!" Webb repeated seethingly.  
  
Penn made a face that sarcastically said 'sorry about this', and a shot rang out.  
  
"Ah," Webb yelled out, before he fell forward, striking his head on the hard cement rooftop. Harm looked down, but couldn't tell where the bullet had struck.  
  
Another shot, and Harm yelled as the bullet grazed his arm. He dropped his gun and looked up to see Corporal Carlson standing behind where Webb had been standing. Yet another gunshot pierced the air, this one pierced Harm's thigh. He grunted in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his leg.  
  
Corporal Carlson strode forward and stood over Harm, who raised his furious blue eyes to meet his. Carlson raised his arm, and held the barrel of the gun at Harm's forehead.  
  
"Jack," Penn called, "Let's go."  
  
Carlson lowered the weapon, and grinned smugly. "How are your ribs, sir?"  
  
Harm glared murderously at him, as he walked to join Penn at the edge of the roof. When they both had their backs turned, Harm lunged for his gun. Just as he reached it, the two men turned to face him. He aimed at Carlson, and fired. The shot hit him square in the chest and he staggered. Harm tried to fire at Penn, and then gun clicked, for Harm had already emptied the clip. Carlson reached out to Penn. Penn only looked cynically at the fear in his eyes.  
  
"Good shot, Commander," he said, as Carlson fell onto his side, dead. Penn stepped up onto the ledge of the roof and jumped off it. Harm dragged himself to the edge, and looked over. Penn was gone.  
  
At that moment, three agents burst through the roof door; they ran to where Harm lay.  
  
"What happened?" a young man asked  
  
"Carlson got me from behind," Harm said in pain, "I got him, but Penn just. jumped, he's gone."  
  
"Jackson, subject may be on the ground under the south wall," the man said into his headset.  
  
"Mac?" Harm asked. The agent didn't say anything.  
  
Another agent was working over Webb. Suddenly, Webb groaned. Then, he rolled onto his back and sat up.  
  
"Take it easy, sir. You'll have a splitting headache for a while, but I think you'll be alright."  
  
The bullet had struck the Kevlar vest, and Webb was alright, aside from a goose egg on his forehead and a nasty bruise where the bullet would have killed him. He slowly rose to his feet and walked toward Harm.  
  
Another agent was tying his belt around Harm's leg. "Ow, that hurt," Harm said through his clenched teeth.  
  
"You've been shot," Webb told him unnecessarily, "It's supposed to hurt." Harm answered by giving him a look of annoyance.  
  
"Looks like you didn't hit anything big, just a flesh wound," the agent treating his leg said. "How's the arm?"  
  
"Just grazed me," Harm answered, he could hear Webb ordering someone to get an ambulance.  
  
"Think you can hobble down the stairs?"  
  
"Yeah, I can handle it," Harm said, giving him an urgent look. An agent and Webb both helped Harm to a standing position on his good leg. Harm grunted in pain. "I'm okay," he said.  
  
With the two men helping him, he descended the stairs and limped toward the Admiral's Staff office on the third floor. When they reached the door to the office, Harm saw Mac lying on the floor inside, her eyes closed and blood smeared and dripping on her forehead.  
  
"Mac," he said softly. Webb could hear the ache and tenderness in his voice as he strained to hold the taller man up. He helped Harm hobble over to where Mac lay and allowed him to slip down to the floor beside her.  
  
"Sarah," Harm said softly.  
  
She lay still for a moment, her breathing was steady, though.  
  
"Come on, Marine," he said more loudly, "Snap out of it."  
  
"Mmm," she moaned almost silently, "Harm."  
  
"That's it, come on," Harm coaxed.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open. "Harm," she whispered, "Head hurts."  
  
Harm smiled broadly but tears stained his cheeks.  
  
Mac smiled meekly and breathed, "Did we get.."  
  
"We got one of 'em," Harm answered bitterly.  
  
Mac blinked in acknowledgement.  
  
"Almost lost you that time, Sarah."  
  
Mac smiled and moved her hand to cover Harm's. From the distance the sound of sirens floated into the office. Mac nodded back out of consciousness, and Harm let her go. 


	22. Chap 24

0600 Local Queen's Hospital London, England  
  
Mac awoke with a throbbing headache, but even the aching couldn't drive the memory of the night before from her mind. She remembered the grenade exploding, seeing debris flying around her, and the brief conversation she had had with Harm. Harm, she thought suddenly, where is Harm?  
  
She quickly opened her eyes, only to shut them again as the light seemed to increase the throbbing in her head, but she forced them open again. She lay a hospital bed, and as she looked around she saw Harm lying in the bed next to her. His right arm was bandaged and a sling elevated his left leg, bandaged and wrapped in brace. He was looking at her.  
  
"Good morning," he said smiling. He pushed himself up on his elbow.  
  
Mac smiled back at him, "Good morning, yourself, sailor."  
  
"You look much better than you did last night," Harm said.  
  
"Thanks, but my head still feels like it's in a vice," Mac told him, then she asked, "What happened to you?"  
  
Harm's eyes darkened and he explained what had happened after the grenade had gone off. Mac listened quietly, occasionally gasping in astonishment, or fear, and when Harm had finished, she looked at him sadly.  
  
"Oh, Harm. I'm so sorry."  
  
"For a while there I thought you were dead," he said, "Now, I can relate to how you felt in May."  
  
"Hey, you were missing for almost an hour, I was out for less than ten minutes."  
  
"Okay, I got a taste of it, at least," he smiled back at her.  
  
They both lay silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Then something occurred to Harm. "We're going to have to call the Admiral at some point."  
  
Mac nodded, but stopped as soon as her head began to throb again.  
  
"I already did," came Webb's voice from the doorway.  
  
Harm looked over to him, "What are you doing here so early?"  
  
Webb smiled ruefully, "I've been here since we got here at two a.m. And, in case you're wondering, the Admiral had my ass for this."  
  
"That's not surprising," Mac said, "After all, this turned out to be another one of your CIA gigs."  
  
Webb shook his head. "No, your original mission had nothing to do the CIA."  
  
Mac lay silent, but then she gasped, "Lynn! Is she alright?"  
  
Webb took a deep breath. "She's still unconscious," he paused, "She, um, lost a lot of blood, and they don't if she's going to make it." Another pause. Webb looked down to where he was rubbing his knuckles; they were already white with tension.  
  
When he raised his eyes back to theirs he looked grief stricken. "If you'll excuse me," he said and strode quickly out of the room.  
  
Harm looked over at Mac. "Wow."  
  
Mac nodded. "I wonder who she is to him."  
  
Webb didn't return, and they rested together for the rest of the day. They did call Admiral Chegwidden at 0800, 1400 eastern, though.  
  
"Admiral, Commander Rabb on line two, sir," Tiner said over the speakerphone.  
  
AJ didn't stop to thank Tiner, he picked up the phone, "Rabb?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"It's good to hear your voice, son," AJ said relieved, "How are you?"  
  
"I've been worse, sir," Harm said.  
  
"How bad are you hurt?"  
  
"One of the shots grazed my left arm, and the other went right through my thigh, sir."  
  
"And Mac?"  
  
"Concussion and a couple of cuts and bruises, sir."  
  
AJ looked heavenward. When he had spoken with Webb earlier in the day both Harm and Mac had been unconscious- well, resting at least. "Didn't I tell you to keep this one simple?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Harm smiled; he knew this was the Admiral's way of saying he was glad that they were okay.  
  
"When are you coming home?" AJ asked.  
  
"We'll be home in time for Christmas, sir," Harm told him, "Mac and I should be cleared to fly tomorrow."  
  
AJ nodded. "Put Mac on."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir." Harm handed the phone to Mac, who was seated on his bed.  
  
"Hello, sir," she said.  
  
"How are you, Mac?"  
  
"I'm better, sir. I'll be in top form in a few days."  
  
"You take it easy," AJ warned, even though he liked at Mac's drive. "That's an order."  
  
"I will, sir."  
  
"You and Rabb come home safe."  
  
"We will, sir," Mac replied smiling at Harm.  
  
"And your aid? How is she?" AJ queried.  
  
Mac's smile faded. "The doctors don't know if she'll make it or not," she said sadly, "She came through surgery, but she hasn't woken up yet."  
  
"God speed to her," AJ said, "Get some rest, Colonel, and make sure Rabb does the same."  
  
"Yes, sir," Mac said, "Goodbye, sir." And she hung up the phone.  
  
Harm patted Mac's leg, and Mac in turn took his hand. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, feeling the scratches left there by the flying debris.  
  
"You know, we're luckier than most," she said.  
  
Harm nodded, "I know." 


	23. Chap 25

That evening, the head nurse said it was okay for Mac to push Harm up to the ICU in a wheelchair so they could check on Lynn, so after dinner they set out. The corridors were almost empty, except for a few nurses and one tired looking doctor. The ICU was also vacant except for Lynn's room.  
  
Mac stopped pushing Harm, and they waited outside the room. They could hear the heart monitor and the beeping of other machines, and they saw through the doorway all the tubes running into her body. She had a tube taped into her mouth, an IV running into her left hand, and the heart monitor under her hospital gown. Webb was sitting in a plastic chair beside her.  
  
Mac had just begun to pull Harm away from the door, when Webb said, "You can come in."  
  
Mac slowly pushed Harm into the room. "We didn't mean to intrude, Clay," Harm said quietly.  
  
Webb nodded. "Don't worry about it."  
  
They were all silent for a while, then Mac said, "Who is she?"  
  
Webb nodded again. "Catherine Grey. She's CIA." He paused and neither Mac nor Harm said a word.  
  
Then, Mac asked softly, "She was here investigating the leak, wasn't she?"  
  
Webb nodded. "We busted a terrorist cell in Pakistan a few months ago and found information that came from Admiral Grant's office. Katie was sent undercover as an attaché, so she would be able to have contact with the high ranking officers as well as the enlisted men."  
  
"How was she able to have contact with them if she was assigned to the Embassy?" Mac asked.  
  
"She was assigned to prepare officers and enlisted personnel for formal affairs," Webb answered, "Like she did for you."  
  
"Why did she get us involved?" Harm asked.  
  
"Do you know what was in that file?" Webb asked. "It was an outline of the president's anti-terrorism plan, that's why she yelled for you."  
  
"How did she know?" Mac asked.  
  
"She read the papers as she picked them up," Webb answered.  
  
Something suddenly occurred to Harm, "She recognized the guy who bumped into her at the ball."  
  
"Very good, Commander," Webb said, "She knew who he was from the start. She knew about Carlson, but she also knew there was someone else involved. She just needed to shake him loose."  
  
"That's where we come in," Mac said, "We shook things up enough to force Lt. Penn to get sloppy."  
  
But Webb shook his head. "Your being here was a lucky coincidence. She was planning on bringing in NCIS, but when you turned up, things just started to happen. She tried to get your attention by planting some CIA paperwork. Remember?"  
  
Harm jogged his memory. Then, he remembered that before they had gone to dinner that first night Lynn had dropped a paper, and he had picked it up. His eyes widened and Webb nodded.  
  
"She was just too believable in her cover, I guess," Webb said, still looking at the bewildered look on Harm's face.  
  
"Not that good," Mac said, "Harm doubted her from the beginning. He just gave her the benefit of it because I asked him to."  
  
"Yes, she reported that she had trouble gaining your confidence, Harm," Webb said, "She also told me that she found increasingly difficult to lie to you."  
  
Webb went silent, and he rubbed his knuckles as he had done that morning. Harm watched as the agent's fingers tensed, then his arms, and finally his whole body seemed to be rigid with tension.  
  
"Mac, would you mind getting us some coffee?"  
  
Mac, who had also seen Webb's tension growing, nodded. "I'll be back in a while."  
  
When she had gone, Harm wheeled himself closer to Webb. "She must be very important to you, Clay."  
  
Webb wet his lips. "She is to me what Mac is to you, Harm," Clay told him, "We just can't take the next step. It's that simple."  
  
"It's never that simple, Clay."  
  
"It is for us," Webb said angrily, "Our rules are not bendable. Do you know what an enemy would do if they knew we were in love and our cover was blown?"  
  
Harm sat silently contemplating those consequences. He and Mac faced many difficult situations, but nothing like that.  
  
"Or how our love could sacrifice a mission?" Webb continued, now overcome by raw emotion, "Trapped by the job we do, we never said it to each other, and now. now we won't. we may never." Webb's breath came in fast gasps as he finally released the pent up tension of that love and the fear of losing it. His whole body seemed to rise and fall with each silent, wrenching sob. Harm got up out of his wheelchair and stood next to were Webb sat, cradling Kate's hand to his chest. He placed his hand reassuringly on the grieving man's shoulder.  
  
When Mac returned a few minutes later, she was stunned to see Clayton Webb sitting in the same chair, resting his head on his arms, which lay crossed on Kate's bed. His face, which had only minutes before been twisted with grief, was peaceful in sleep. Harm sat beside him, his hand still on his shoulder.  
  
"Harm," she softly questioned.  
  
"Come on in, Sarah."  
  
Mac entered quietly, placing the coffee she had brought on the table. "What happened?"  
  
Harm just sat there, looking thoughtfully at Webb and Kate. Then he turned his eyes to her, eyes that were filled with passion, longing, tenderness. But there was a shadow over them all.  
  
"Are you okay?" Mac asked saddened by the look in his eyes.  
  
"Sarah, I need to tell you something that I want you to know," he said seriously, "We've come so close to never telling each other, and I don't want the day to come when it's too late."  
  
Mac stared at him, her heart pounding with anticipation, and Harm continued, "I love you, and I would risk everything to share that love with you."  
  
The ache in her heart blossomed into a joy she had never known. "I would risk it all, just to share one day in love with you," she said, tears falling from her warm dark eyes. Harm had barely opened his arms when she flung her arms around his neck, careful not to press his ribs or arm. She kissed his cheek and tasted the salt of his tears. He breathed the scent of her hair and pulled her tightly to him. It was a long time before they released each other, and they both ached at the loss of intimacy.  
  
They left the room silently, so as not to wake Webb, and returned to their room. Once they were inside, and Harm was back in bed, Mac crawled up next to him, and they fell asleep, side-by-side. 


	24. Chap 26

Later that evening, after Harm had convinced the head nurse to allow him to use crutches as his arm wasn't bothering him that much, they returned to check on Kate and Webb. When he and Mac arrived at Kate's room, Webb still had his back to them, and he was hunched over, resting his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. They watched as he sat up, reached out and took her hand in his. He began to talk to her.  
  
"You remember last Christmas?" he said softly, his voice calm, "We were in Russia on a mission, and you were delayed getting to the checkpoint. I remember being terrified that you had been captured, or your cover blown. I thought my heart was going to burst when I saw you across that square.  
  
He paused. "I knew it then, and I tried to put distance between us. I'll never forget how furious you were when I sent you back to the states." He laughed. "You didn't talk to me for a month."  
  
His speech broke, and he continued in a strained and overwhelmed tone. "Kate you can't leave me. We've survived so much already. God, Katie, if you don't come back, I." His body was again rigid with tension, and he brought her hand to his lips. He held it there for a moment, and then, holding it to his cheek he said, "I would give anything if I could tell you how much I love you." He kissed her hand and then placed it down beside her.  
  
Mac and Harm watched in shock as Webb leapt up from his seat. He looked frantically around, and then he saw them. "Go," he said excitedly, his eyes wide with hope, "Go get a doctor!"  
  
Mac dashed from the room to the nurse's desk, as Harm sat looking questioningly at Webb. "What going on?"  
  
"She squeezed my hand," Webb said before he leaned in over Kate's face, and said with much emotion, "Kate? Katie? Open your eyes. Please, come back to me, Kate."  
  
Her eyelids shuddered, and then she blinked. She looked confused and scared as she scanned the room, but her eyes soon settled on Webb, and widened with relieved recognition. Despite the pale color of her skin, her face seemed to brighten. Mac returned with the doctor.  
  
"Miss O'Connor, can you hear me?" he asked.  
  
Kate made a small nod, as Webb said, "Kate. Her name is Kate."  
  
"Kate, I'm going to pull the tube out of your throat," the doctor said, "On the count of the three I want you to take a deep breath and then exhale. Ready?"  
  
She nodded meekly again.  
  
"One, two, three." Kate pulled in a large breath and then as she blew it out the doctor pulled the tube from her throat. She coughed dryly and sputtered.  
  
"Try not to talk," the doctor instructed, "You're voice will return, but it's going to be pretty sore for a while." The doctor then asked Webb, Harm and Mac to leave so that he could examine her. Ten minutes later, they were all allowed to return under strict orders not to overexcite her. "She's a strong woman," the doctor said, "She'll probably make a full recovery."  
  
Kate's bed was raised to a 45-degree angle and already she looked pinker. Her left arm lay still against her side, the heavy bandaging at her shoulder bulging under her hospital gown. She followed Harm and Mac with tired, but cheerful eyes.  
  
And when she beheld Webb, her eyes began to glisten like morning mist. Webb's own eyes were filled with tears as he retook her hand and she looked up into his relieved face. She moved her hand from his, and reached to the nape of his neck. She pulled his face closer to hers, and she whispered scratchily, "I would, too."  
  
Webb buried his face in her neck and she hugged him to her with her good arm. Harm and Mac stood soundlessly near the window watching the scene before them. Harm had wrapped his arm around Mac, and she had nestled tightly into him. When Webb and Kate finally let go of each other, Kate looked over toward them.  
  
"I'm sor."  
  
"Shh, don't worry about it," Mac assured her, "You can tell us later."  
  
Kate nodded, and she rested back against the pillows, and fell asleep. 


	25. Epilogue

Mac drove Harm's SUV up the snow covered drive and pulled up to a small garage outside a pleasantly large farmhouse. She turned off the car, and looked around her. Snow covered the ground and frosted the trees, creating a dreamlike winter wonderland. Here eyes finally settled on Harm, who sat excitedly, waiting to rush into the house and greet his grandmother. Mac's stomach was doing loop-the-loops.  
  
"Come on, Marine," Harm teased as he opened the door and hobbled out of the car. Mac took a deep breath, and then she too, exited the vehicle. Harm ambled up to her on his crutches, and together they walked up the steps and onto the porch.  
  
Suddenly, the door swung open, and a little, white-haired woman stood before them, and said sweetly, "Welcome to the family, Sarah." 


End file.
